


The Sea In Between

by Oh_Contrary



Series: The Sea in Between [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Canon Typical Violence, Collars, Emotional Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Galra!Keith, Heavy Angst, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, Injury, Insecurities, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Magic, Medical Situations, Mind Reading, Not Canon Compliant, Overuse of the phrase, Slow Burn, Space Uncle Coran (Voltron), Starvation, Team Dynamics, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Torture, Urination, Violence, Vomiting, What Have I Done, Why do I hurt the ones I love?, bonding moment, but like, druid magic, fucked up Galra cultural trends that I don't really know how to tag for, is that a description?, it's there I promise, mild contemplations of death, mild if not vindictive Shallura, non-sexual restraints, not even Trying to be canon compliant, or a demand?, questionable plot choices, the author continues to make questionable choices, the slowest of burns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2018-09-15 03:25:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 91,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9216500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oh_Contrary/pseuds/Oh_Contrary
Summary: Team Voltron has successfully reunited after they were separated by the corrupted wormhole. But now, as they start their most perilous series of missions, the team is once again torn apart when Lance is captured by the Galra. While Lance struggles to survive in the clutches of their enemy, the rest of the team struggles just to stay together. But, as they work to bring Lance back, they realize that saving him will involve more than just bringing him home.





	1. Act I

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first fanfic and it has already spiraled out of control. Brace yourself for angst.
> 
> I will be updating weekly, and tags will update as we move along.
> 
> * I am using female pronouns for Pidge because I love transgirl!Pidge and want my darling to be the best scientist in the universe and women in STEM are important to me.
> 
> The title is from [ this ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KGUqnNoZHZ8) song by We Were Evergreen!
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Tay.

It took less time than Allura expected to collect her scattered paladins. Once the Castle of Lions had escaped the corrupted wormhole, she and Coran made quick work of the repairs which, thankfully, had been minimal. One day later they had located three of their missing pilots. Their navigation showed Pidge only two galaxies away, and Shiro only one further. Keith’s lion had been badly damaged, and had crashed on a planet with an atmosphere so thick they could barely catch his distress beacon, but, after a few days they had found the Red Lion and Keith was resting in a healing pod. Somehow, Hunk and Lance had found each other in a distant galaxy, and the blue lion, slightly damaged, was laying atop the yellow lion as the pair floated through space. Luckily, despite the damage to his lion, Lance was unharmed. Hunk had a few minor injuries, but was out of a healing pod within an hour.

“We were very lucky,” Allura said to her paladins, once they were gathered in the common room on the main floor. It was dark. The castle had started its night-time cycle, but they had all stayed awake late into the night. Keith had just come out of the healing pod and the paladins had all piled onto one sofa, relieved to be near one another. “While I wish I could lecture you about how terribly reckless it was for you to head straight for Zarkon in order to rescue me, I can’t help but be grateful that you did.” She gave them all a small smile.

“There was no hesitation, princess,” Shiro said from the couch. “You would have done the same for us.” 

Allura dipped her head at him. “Yes, I would.” 

Coran wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “It’s time we get you to bed, princess. You’ll need plenty of rest.”

“I think that applies to all of us, Coran,” said Shiro. He looked over at where Pidge had dozed off against Keith’s shoulder and further down the curved couch where Hunk was yawning into a barely awake Lance’s hair. “It’s time for all of us to get some sleep. We’ll see each other in the morning.” Keith nudged a sleeping Pidge in Shiro’s direction and Shiro scooped her into his arms as he stood. Allura called good night as Coran led her towards her wing of the castle. Keith trudged out after Shiro and Pidge.

“Hey, Lance,” Hunk whispered, shaking the other boy lightly. Lance groaned and snuggled deeper into Hunk’s side. Hunk laughed and shook him again. “I’ll leave you here, you know,” he said with a smile. Lance cracked an eye at him.

“No you wouldn’t,” he yawned. “You won’t leave me. You love me.” Hunk smiled and patted Lance on the head.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He said with a sigh. The two of them lay there for a few more minutes. Hunk was soon lost in his thoughts about how terrified the two of them had been, floating through space together. Seeing Blue’s distress beacon on Yellow’s control panel had given Hunk the scare of his life. He’d prayed to everything he knew on his way towards Lance, and had practically cried when Lance’s voice had come through the comms to him. Blue had been down for some unknown reason, running just on reserve power. Lance had refused to leave her, and, hearing that Hunk was injured, wouldn’t let the mechanic come take a look, so the two of them kept a constant stream of chatter going as they floated along together.

“We should really get up,” Lance grumbled.

“Yeah.”

“But I’ll see you in the morning,” The sentence was almost a question, an underlying insecurity or fear of being along catching between the syllables.

“Of course.”

“Okay.” Lance rolled off the couch and onto his feet, wobbling slightly. He turned and offered Hunk a hand, which the other boy took. They walked quietly to Hunk’s room, only a few doors down from Lance’s.

“Good night, buddy.” Hunk whispered.

“G’night bro.” Lance walked alone to his room. Despite his fatigue, he did his usual series of skincare rituals before he let himself slip under the covers. The lights in his room cut off automatically, like they always did, and he slid his sleep mask down over his eyes. He said a small prayer for his family on Earth. He wasn’t religious, but his mother had been, and the small ritual helped steady his mind when he couldn’t help but worry. When he found himself so far from his family, it had soon become a nightly tradition.

When Lance walked into the kitchen the next morning, Hunk and Coran greeted him enthusiastically. The pair was already preparing a breakfast that would, again, be far too much food. It seemed that they could only cope with the recent stress by trying too hard to care for the others; and, for each paladin who stumbled to the table, they prepped a plate heaped high with the exotic foods they’d found similar to bread and ham and eggs.

Breakfast was pleasant. Allura, surprisingly, was the last to join them. While it was unlike her to be late for anything, she explained that Alteans sleep a lot when recovering from stress and the others understood. Coran passed her a plate stacked high with food and she gifted him a smile, picking up her spork and digging in. At the end of breakfast, Pidge hesitantly cleared her throat, drawing the room’s focus to her.

“I know we’re tired, and a lot of us are still recovering,” she looked to Keith and Allura, “but I want to go ahead and start looking at the data we stole from the Galra. I think… I think it can help me find my family. If there’s even a chance that I, or someone else whose family has been taken away by the Galra, could get back the people we love, then I at least have to try.” After a long moment, Shiro spoke up.

“I agree, Pidge. We worked hard for this information and it could definitely help us out,” he looked to Allura at the head of the table. The princess sighed without looking up from her food.

“I understand that we are all eager to get back out there, but we must consider the risks that come with what's being implied. This could become a search throughout galaxies, many of which will be Galra-controlled. There are Galra facilities that we’ve barely escaped intact. If a hunt through the Galra empire is something we are to pursue, we cannot hesitate in our actions. Pidge, what you are suggesting, though noble and entirely reasonable a course, is not a mission we can undertake lightly.”

“I am aware princess.”

Allura measured Pidge with her eyes, before looking around the table.

“If we are to do this, I want the decision to be unanimous,” The princess said to the other paladins. A wave of determination seemed to sweep through them and they all nodded. Allura smiled. “Very well. Pidge, upload your data to the castle main frame. It can translate it and we can begin with analysis. While the castle works on translating the data, I suggest you all spend some time on the training deck.”

“Thank you, Allura,” Pidge said before running out of the room.

“You heard the princess,” Shiro said as he stood. “Training deck in ten minutes.”

 

* * *

 

“Lance, focus!” Keith shouted as he blocked another blow from a battle droid. Team Voltron had fought its way up to the eighth battle level, the farthest they’d made it with all five of them still in play.

“Hunk, on your left.” Shiro shouted, diving to the side to avoid a blast from a droid. He had lost count of how many they had fought so far. While he was proud of his team for lasting as long as they had, but he didn’t know how much longer they could go without someone taking some real damage. Before he could think too hard on it, a voice from overhead called for an end to the training sequence.

Lance flopped dramatically onto the floor, joined moments later by Pidge and Hunk. Keith wiped down the pommel of his bayard.

“How long did we go for?” Lance panted.

“Two and a half of your earth hours!” Coran said proudly, circling through them with pouches of water. “It was most impressive, but the princess told me to stop you all. The data translation will be done and transferred onto tablets for you in ten minutes. She assumed you would want to be ready to analyze it as soon as possible.”

“Wait, it took this long just to translate it all?” Pidge said as she sat up. Coran gave her a smile.

“You recovered an amazing wealth of data, Pidge. You should be very proud of yourself. Now, all of you need to scuffle off to either your rooms or the communal showers to wash up. You stink like a herd of Griphnath. Come to the bridge when you’re ready.”

Within minutes they were gathered in the control room. Pidge was a ball of restless energy. She paced back and forth as the program seemed to slow down while it finalized the translations. Keith looked around the room to find everyone similarly nervous. Lance was curled up in the pilot’s chair, humming to himself. Hunk was still and silent. Keith even found himself shifting his weight unconsciously. Shiro stepped forward and took Pidge by the shoulders, stopping her nervous trek. He pulled her to him and she buried her face in his stomach. He patted her hair as they all waited. 

Only a minute later, the console beeped, letting them know the information was ready to be transferred. All heads looked to Allura and Coran, who bustled around as they went about downloading the translated information onto each of their tablets, an Altean learning technology that Allura had gifted them to the paladins to help them learn Altean. But the devices were also useful for research. Pidge preferred her computer, but it wasn’t always able to work with heavy data loads in a timely manner.

“Now, the bulk of the information seems to be coordinates. Locations of work camps, shipping facilities, other databases, etc.” Allura said as she walked around distributing the tablets. “Basically, anything that was or could have been transported through the facility we invaded has a route somewhere in the data we stole. That includes prisoners.” Allura came to Pidge, who tugged herself out of Shiro’s arms and gripped the tablet as it was offered to her. Pidge looked up at Allura. “This could very well be exactly what you needed, Pidge.” The princess said with a smile.

“Alright Paladins.” Shiro said in his authoritative voice. “Let’s get to work.”

 

* * *

 

It took four days to catalogue the data. There were prison locations, shipyards, weapon suppliers, work camps; more information than they could have hoped to get from the Galra. Lance had never seen Pidge so focused, not even at the Garrison. Had it not been for Hunk and Coran reminding all of them to eat and sleep regularly, she almost certainly would have stayed glued to her tablet for days straight. Lance didn’t even believe that she slept when she was supposed to, because the afternoon of the third day, she dozed off into her food and Shiro carried her to her bedroom. She reappeared in the common room a few hours later, hair dripping and a towel around her neck. She touched Shiro gently on the shoulder before she sat back down to work. It was almost as if she’d never left.

When the work was finished, Allura projected the data onto the star map on the control room. Coran got up and began to manipulate the screen.

“The Orange dots are work camps. You’ll notice that these are often more isolated. Whenever possible, they are set up in distant corners of galaxies. That’s because they’re usually the final stop for a Galra prisoner.” A dozen or so orange locations, lit up on the screen. As he continued to explain, he pulled layers of dots onto the map. “Purple dots are the few weapons suppliers we found. That would be blasters, battle droids, armor, etc. Green is shipyards and repair stations, and Yellow dots are research facilities.” Coran grew quiet, hesitant, as he prepared for the next screen. “Blue dots are prison ships and holding facilities.” The screen lit up with an overwhelming amount of blue. Keith swore under his breath. Lance echoed his curse loudly. Hunk was silent. All eyes turned to Pidge, whose knuckles had gone white where they were tangled in her hoodie. Shiro placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Allura.. D-do we know if... I mean. Is this all of them? It has to be, right?” In all the time he’d known her, Lance had never heard Pidge sound as young as she did then.

“I don’t know, Pidge. Galra prison facilities are usually rather small, holding only a few dozen prisoners per location to limit the threat of rioting or broad escape plans. I… I wouldn’t be surprised if there were more locations we didn’t get data for or that are currently being built.” Pidge nodded to herself.

Surprisingly, it was Lance who spoke next.

“Where do we start?” He looked around the room. “I mean, there’s no way we can just start breaking into places. Even though some of these places are clustered together, I don’t know if we can carry the prisoners from more than one place at a time in the lions. And, even then, then how do we return them home? If their planets have been taken over, aren't we just putting them back in jeopardy?”

“So what, you think they’re better off without us?” Keith said his voice incredulous.

“No, that’s not it. Of course I want to get anyone I can out of the hands of the Galra. But I don’t know how we help beyond that.”

“Lance makes a very good point, Keith.” Allura said. “It won’t be enough just to break them out. There are refugee camps set up in hidden corners of the galaxy. Planets that have been rebuilt as safe havens that rebels use for this very purpose. There, escapees can find ships for venturing home, or safe communities ready to accept them. We will get them to safety. It will be up to them to decide their own fate.”

“What do we do if the facilities are protected? And does this map count places that are Galra controlled like Shay’s Balmera? What do we do about people imprisoned where they live?” Hunk asked.

“Some of the work camps could be situations like the Balmera,” Coran said, “but it would be hard to know without checking each one.” He tapped the controls, shifting them so the map showed only the orange and blue dots.

“That’s hundreds of dots,” Keith said. “There’s no way they won’t catch on to what we’re doing if we suddenly start raiding dozens of prisons at a time.”

“So we won’t raid dozens at a time.” Hunk moved to the map. “Some of these clusters are close enough that we could hit two or three at a time, but I think, for the most part, we should make them look random. Maybe we don’t even plan it. We pick a coordinate and be there within the hour. The Galra can’t expect something we haven’t even planned.”

“And what do we do about Galra defenses?” Keith said. “We can’t be defending the castle, and running the halls of a prison at the same time. Even if the castle can defend itself, we can’t just park our lions outside and expect the Galra to leave them alone. And the pods are too small for getting people out.”

“The castle defenses are enough to hold for shorter raids,” Coran said thoughtfully, “but even so, we would need at least two lions on defense at a time while others do recon and rescue.”

“The more we do this, the better we’ll get at it.” Allura stated. She looked at her paladins, “You have all grown since our last mission. Just the way you’re approaching this shows that you are all starting to think like Paladins of Voltron, and that is why I know we can do this. We may be no stronger than we were, but we’re smarter and more determined.”

“But is that enough, Princess?” Shiro said from where he’d been silently standing.

“I believe it will be, Shiro. And so should you.” She looked around the room. “We’ll pick our first location in two days time. I suggest you all rest up. Train in what you think you need to. Double check that your lions are fighting fit. We have people to save.”

They nodded and filed out of the bridge. Shiro brought up the rear, guiding Pidge, who seemed reluctant to leave the map, with a hand on her shoulder.

“We’ll find them. I know we will.” Shiro said. Pidge nodded at his side.

“I know,” she said.

They all split off, Hunk and Pidge heading to the lab, Keith to the training deck, and Lance and Shiro to their respective lions. Even though Lance knew that Blue was completely repaired from the crash while exiting the corrupted wormhole, he wanted to check in with her. He double checked all of Blue’s basic systems and wandered to her lower level. It was the storage hangar for the travel pod and where most of her emergency resources were stored. He hadn’t used that much of her stock while he and Hunk were stranded, but he had made a mess of things while searching for food and water. He figured, if he would be carting people down there, he would want some more room. By the time Hunk called him for dinner, he had everything pushed against the walls with new, translated labels facing outwards.

Dinner was quiet, as it usually was the night before a mission. They decided they would have a late evening training session, but other than that, chatter was kept to a minimum. Allura and Coran were leaned over a tablet and speaking quickly about wormholes. Lance couldn’t follow it, but every once in a while Pidge or Hunk would pipe in. Lance picked at his food, spending more time moving it around the plate than actually eating.

“You should eat something. You’ll want the energy for training,” Keith said as he got up for seconds.

“I can kick your ass no matter what, Kogane.” Lance said with a smirk. Nevertheless, he made sure to eat a bit more before pushing himself away from the table.

An hour later, Team Voltron was pounding away at the training bots. Coran stopped them after two hours and they all trudged off to their own quarters to clean up and sleep.

The following day passed in much the same way as the day before. They all ate breakfast together before training, after which they showered and reconvened for strategizing and lunch. In the afternoon, they split up to prepare in different ways, before reconvening for dinner, after which they all hit the training deck. Once training was finished, they split up for the night.

If you asked Allura, she would tell you that her paladins were both more withdrawn and more social before a big mission: they were all more personally subdued, but insisted on being near one another. The night before their first rescue mission was no different.

After training, the paladins trickled into the common room, wet hair and tired eyes unable to keep them from one another. They sat in companionable silence until she and Coran herded them off to bed.

The following breakfast was a nearly silent affair. They all said their good mornings and made the usual small talk about how they’d slept. Lance hummed nervously to himself throughout the meal, but, for the most part, it was quiet. After the meal, they all walked quietly to the control room. Allura pulled up the map and layered the blue dots representing prison ships over the bevy of stars. Pidge stepped forward.

“Hunk and I created a new program. It’ll help the castle mainframe randomly select our raid locations. The program tells the system to search for a single coordinate from the set we have. It can distinguish between prison ships that are singled out, away from other locations, and the ones that are in clusters.” She and Hunk walked back to the other paladins as Allura stepped forward.

“It wouldn’t do for us to take on too much for this first mission. I’ve had Pidge to set the program for just one prison. One ship will be plenty for right now. After we have the coordinates, I will find the best location for the castle and wormhole us there. As we discussed, Lance, Hunk, and I will accompany Shiro in his lion. Because the black lion is the largest, we will force its head through the hull of the ship like Hunk did during my rescue, and people will board through the mouth. Shiro, Lance, Hunk and myself will break people out of the cells and get them back to the lion. Keith and Pidge, you will protect the black lion while it is docked. The Blue and Yellow lions will stay in the castle.” Coran stepped up beside Allura.

“There’s no reason for these locations to be too heavily protected, so we should be able to get in and out in less than thirty minutes. It’s highly likely that the team inside the ship will take heavier fire than the team outside. Luckily, Lance and Hunk’s ranged weapons should help hold off guards and droids alike.”

“Are we ready?” Allura asked as she pulled up the navigation system and Pidge’s new program.

“Yes Princess,” they all answered.

No one spoke as Allura and Coran ran the program, selecting a location a few galaxies away. When the coordinates flashed onscreen, Allura turned to the paladins.

“Suited up and in your lions in fifteen minutes.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, I was way too excited about how many of y'all read the last chapter. 
> 
> Mild violence in this chapter. If there's anything that folks think I should be tagging for trigger/content warnings, please let me know. 
> 
> I apologize in advance for my terribly written fight scenes.
> 
> xoxo  
> ~Tay

The first rescue mission was successful, but not without its faults. The castle took no damage, and the team outside handled what few ships it encountered easily, but, for the team inside, things were far more difficult. 

The ship was large, and split into three wings. Lance and Hunk easily made their way into center, where the three wings separated, and quickly located the prison wing of the vessel. They relayed their position to Shiro and Allura, telling them where to bring the Black lion through but, by the time the other pair got to them, Lance and Hunk were taking heavy fire from guard droids. When Shiro brought the black lion through the hull, a secondary alarm sounded. Within minutes, the number of Galra in the ward had nearly doubled, and it was all Hunk and Lance could do to cover Shiro and Allura as they released people from their cells and herded them onto the lion. 

Shiro and Allura had emptied the prison corridor and Lance and Hunk were backed up to the ship, ready to board, when Allura hailed them on their comms.

“There are four prisoners in solitary confinement on the western side of the ship,” she panted. 

“And?” Lance said hurriedly as he took out more droids. “There’s no way we’re getting there through this many guards.” 

“Shiro and I are going to pull out, and head to the far side of the ship for solitary.” 

Hunk’s brow furrowed. “But the vacuum—“ 

“Yes, Hunk. There will be thirty seconds of violent suction before the ship’s atmospheric forcefield activates. That should pull most of the soldiers out of the ship, and then the two of you can head to the western wing and release the prisoners from solitary before we get there. Then we will break through on the other side and pick you all up.” 

“How do we open the vaults without Shiro’s arm?” Lance yelled as he threw up his shield. 

“I—” Allura stuttered.

“Steal the arm off of a droid before we pull out of the hull.” Shiro said. “We’ve gotta move.”

“Okay.” Lance panted as he looked to Hunk, who nodded him. Lance sheathed his bayard. He looked through his shield for the closest fallen droid. There were two Galra soldiers standing over it, but it was his best bet. “I’m going to the right.” He yelled to Hunk, who nodded again. 

“Three. Two. One!” Lance took off down the corridor, using his shield to block the oncoming fire. Hunk shot one of the Galra in Lance’s way and Lance met the other one with a punch to the jaw, before he ducked. Hunk shot over him, incapacitating another Galra. Lance reactivated his bayard, grabbed the downed droid by the arm and shot through the arm’s joint. 

“Allura, I have it.” Lance said as he surged upwards, narrowly avoiding the reaching hand of a Galra.

“Good. Find cover.” Allura said. The black lion closed its mouth and Hunk dove into a vacated cell, closing his helmet and gripping the bars. Lance did the same, stowing his bayard and trapping the piece of Galra tech between his body and the wall. 

“Ready,” Hunk called. 

“Ready,” Lance repeated. 

“Shiro, go!” they heard her yell, and suddenly the corridor filled with wind. The hoard of Galra and their downed comrades were sucked out into space. A few attempted to grab onto the cell bars or get their claws into the walls, but they were buffeted by the wind and by other soldiers, and were pulled away by the vacuum.. By the time Lance had counted to thirty, the atmospheric field had activated, sealing the hole with a transparent forcefield. 

As he stepped out of his hiding spot, Lance was immediately impressed by Allura’s plan. The hallway was completely empty. Other than stray burn marks from the blasters, it was like the guards hadn’t even been there. He looked back at Hunk, who was trotting towards him. They took off towards the western wing of the ship. The pair only encountered two guard droids on the way. He assumed that almost all of the Galra forces had been sent to apprehend them in the main corridor. They quickly opened the cells and helped the prisoners out into the hall. The black lion forced its head into the ship and Lance and Hunk guided the latest prisoners onto the ship, half carrying two of them, who seemed significantly weaker than the other prisoners they had seen. They would need immediate medical attention at the castle. 

When everyone was safely on the lion, Shiro shot away from the prison ship to where Keith and Pidge were standing by. They flew back to the ship in and arrow formation and, within moments of the hangar doors closing, Coran was whisking them away towards the safety of a refugee planet. 

*** 

“Well done paladins!” Allura cheered. Team Voltron was settled in the common room. They had just delivered the first group of rescued prisoners to a refugee planet call Nevis, and had been greeted with open arms and cheers. It wasn’t quite the parade Lance had hoped for, but it was pretty damn close. The refugees living there had shown them what they had made of the planet, which the galra had raided for ore and then abandoned. With the combined technology from many different races, they had been able to bring the planet back. There was plenty of food and water to be shared. They gifted team Voltron them supplies, which Allura had intended to turn down, but they were offered healthy and exotic fruits that set her paladin’s mouths watering. They accepted the food, including something that Coran referred to as “a roast for the gods” and took their leave. 

Now, with the castle flying smoothly through a fringe galaxy, and the team finally out of uniform, they gathered in the common room. Allura and Coran passed out water pouches and slices of the fruit they’d been gifted before coming to stand in front of the paladins.

“The mission was a success. We rescued thirty-nine people from the Galra and delivered them to safety.” Allura beamed at them. “You should be very proud of yourselves.” 

Lance looked around the room. Hunk was smiling into a piece of fruit. Shiro looked like a proud dad. Keith looked not quite happy, but definitely more relaxed. Pidge looked relieved but also disappointed. None of the people they had rescued had heard of human prisoners. The paladins had been the first humans all but one of them had seen, and that one had watched Shiro in the ring once as the Champion. It had been an unpleasant series of conversations for her. 

Allura cleared her throat. “Again, I am very proud of you all . You did great work today. Get some good rest. In a few days we’ll do all it again.” 

And that they did. In the span of two weeks they raided 6 prison ships. On the days between, they would rest, repair the lions, discuss previous missions, and heal. Hunk took a shot to the shoulder during the fourth mission and had to spend a few hours in a healing pod. Shiro had them take an extra day off, even though Hunk spent every training session insisting he was okay. After each rescue, they used Pidge’s program to randomize the refugee planets they went to, not wanting to draw attention to any of the small communities by forming any patterns. 

Despite their vigorous schedule, tam Voltron still trained like normal and spent mealtimes together. They fell into a steady rhythm and, before anyone knew it, six weeks had passed and they had emptied and incapacitated nearly twenty Galra prison facilities. Lance insisted they should celebrate and, surprisingly, Allura agreed. 

“You’ve worked hard. You all deserve a break.” And so, the next day, Team Voltron did nothing but relax together. Pidge projected some of the movies saved on her computer onto the wall in the common room, and they spent most of the day lounging around. Keith and Shiro had even foregone training for the day just to spend time with the others. 

Late in the afternoon, Hunk, Coran, and Lance took to the kitchen and prepared a meal with all of their favorite new foods. One refuge planet had gifted them a substance that they found similar to cheese and that melted over anything at the slightest heat. They melted some in a bowl in the center of the table and pretended it was fondue. Dinner had been loud, filled with jokes and exaggerated tales from battles. After dinner, Allura played Altean music in the common room and told stories about the balls and diplomatic events that used to happen in the castle (and all the mischief she had caused during them). By the end of the night, the team was sprawled over the entire common room, Altean music playing in the background as they all began to grow tired. 

“This is really nice,”  Lance said from where he lay on the floor. “Just us, hanging out,” Hunk flopped down next to him and smiled at the rest of the group. 

“We should do this more often,” Pidge said. “It’s nice to have days just for ourselves, you know?” 

“And we can get in more of those  _ bonding moments  _ Keith is such a fan of,” Lance said, shooting an upside-down smirk towards Keith, sitting on the floor in front of Shiro, who chuckled from his place on the couch and patted Keith on the head as he bristled. 

“Who knows,” Keith said, “Maybe if the two of us ‘bond’ enough I’ll finally be able to put up with your bad jokes.” Lance gasped and rolled over onto his stomach, looking over at Keith. 

“Are you feeling alright, Mullet? For a second it sounded like you said something funny.” Pidge laughed while Keith sent Lance a glare, only to be met with a smile. Lance laughed and rolled back onto his back. 

One by one, they all made their way to bed. Allura left first, followed by Coran, who thanked them all for their enthusiasm throughout the night. Pidge fell asleep on the floor and Shiro carried her off to bed, leaving Hunk, Lance, and Keith sprawled out on the common room floor. 

“Have you noticed that Pidge is always falling asleep in random places?” Hunk said after a minute.  “I think she may get more sleep in random corners of the castle than she does in her bed.” 

“Yeah, and then Shiro is always toting her off to her room like he’s her mom.” Lance said with a chuckle. 

“Well, the two of them are really close.” Keith said quietly. “He knew her family before Kerberos. He was in the Garrison with her older brother.” The three of them were quiet for a moment before Lance spoke. 

“Do you guys... Do you think we’ll find them? Pidge’s family? I try not to think about it, but we’ve already emptied like twenty Galra facilities and we’re either the first human contact for the folks there, or they’d seen or heard of Shiro from when he’d been imprisoned... I can’t even imagine how Pidge is feeling about all this.” 

“Hey,” Hunk said, sitting up. “Pidge is super tough, and she’s crazy smart too. I’m sure it isn’t easy, but she’s been keeping her head on straight so far.” 

“That doesn’t mean she’s okay though. Just because we can’t see it,” Lance said, also sitting up. He hugged his knees to his chest. “I just know that if it were my family lost somewhere out there... I wouldn’t be able to think straight, much less function like she has.” 

“Pidge is okay,” Keith said. “She knows she can come to any of us, and I’m almost positive she’s been talking about it with Shiro. They’re both kind of torn up about this, so they know what they’re both going through.” 

“That’s true... I just worry, you know?” Lance said with a shrug. 

“That’s actually really thoughtful of you, Lance.” Keith said. 

“Why the tone of surprise? I’m thoughtful all the time,” Lance said indignantly as Hunk laughed. 

“It’s true. Lance is the biggest softie you’ll ever meet. Once, we were watching  _ Brave _ and he just started—“ 

“That’s enough Hunk!” Lance said, slapping a hand over Hunk’s mouth. But it was too late, Keith was already snickering into his hand. 

“Isn’t that a Disney movie?” Keith asked, voice still shaking with laughter. 

“Yes, and a very poignant one, at that!”

Keith raised his hands in a fake surrender. “Oh, I have no doubt.” 

“You’ve never seen it, have you.” 

“Not even once.” Keith laughed, and Hunk joined in, only to get cuffed on the head. Lance looked over at Keith. 

“You know, you’re pretty chill when you’re not all broody and stuff,” Lance said. Keith shrugged, ignoring the warmth of a blush on the back of his neck. 

“Why the tone of surprise?” He shot back with a smile. Lance got up and stretched with a smile. 

“You’re alright, Kogane. You’re alright.” He headed towards the door. “Good night, gentlemen. See you guys in the morning.” 

“G’night, Lance.” Hunk called, getting to his feet.

“Good night,” said Keith. Lance waved a hand at them as he disappeared out the door. Hunk 

offered Keith a hand and pulled him up off the couch. “Hey, Hunk? How long have you known Lance?” 

“I think ten years? I left Hawaii when I was eight. My mom’s dad had really bad dementia, and we moved to the mainland to take care of him. It was really hard on her, and I was really young and sort of in the way, so she was really grateful when Lance’s family came along and basically adopted me. They lived super close-by. I probably spent more nights in Lance’s room than my own.” Keith looked at the soft expression on Hunk’s face and felt vaguely jealous. Even though he and Shiro had spent some time together when they were younger, it was obvious that they hadn’t had the same close experiences that Lance and Hunk had. He didn’t really know what to say, so he settled for: 

“You can tell how close you two are.” 

“Yeah, but it comes with the territory, right?” Hunk grinned. “Once Lance takes you in, he never really lets you go. You’ll figure that out soon enough.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“It means that you and Lance are only two ‘bonding experiences’ away from bros.” Keith actually laughed. 

“Lance can barely stand me. I mean, we’re always arguing with each other—“ 

“Wait, you don’t think that’s serious, do you?” Keith looked up at Hunk and discovered they were in the hall heading to their rooms. He didn’t remember leaving the common room. 

“Isn’t it? He thinks I’m his rival.” 

“Oh, dude. Lance banters with everyone. It’s practically how he shows affection. Don’t take any of it to heart, and just let him know when he’s crossed a line. He tries to act all cocky and aloof, but he really cares a lot. Like, a lot a lot. I wasn’t kidding when I said he was a softie.” By the time Hunk finished talking they were outside his bedroom door. “This is my stop. But seriously, I promise Lance doesn’t hate you. I don't even think we could form Voltron if he did.”

“Thanks Hunk.”

“No problem, Keith. Have a good night.” 

“G’night.” Keith wandered down the hall to his bedroom, thinking about what Hunk had said. For having only known him a few months, Keith trusted Hunk, and, especially since he and Lance had been so close for so long,  didn’t think he would lie about their fellow paladin. If the two of them were as close to a true friendship as Hunk had said, then Keith would try harder to get along with the blue paladin. 

The next morning started slowly. Team Voltron stumbled sleepy-eyed into breakfast, most of them having slept late, but, after the meal, they were back to training as usual. Allura, because she was always on the ground during rescue missions, had started training with the group. All together, they had been slowly increasing levels on the training bots. 

“I think we should start at level one and aim to get past training level twelve today,” Shiro said after warm-ups. 

“That’ll take forever,” Pidge groaned. 

“I think it’s important for us to train for stamina as well. The mission where we hit two facilities at once was perilous at best. We made it out of there, but Hunk was hurt and Lance and Allura were 

hard pressed to get him and the last escapees onto my lion. If we want to be able to take on the heavy clusters, we’ll need to be able to fight harder and longer.” Shiro looked around the circle. His team had definitely improved with the vigor of their new schedule, but there was still work to be done. 

“It will be good for us to practice for extended combat situations, “Allura said. “Now that we understand the number of people who can ride in the lions, there’s little to fear from larger missions except our own ability.” 

After the princess spoke, there was no more argument. Two and a half hours later, Coran was cheering through the speakers that they had not only made it past level twelve, but had done so in record time. Shiro had them go until they’d beaten level fourteen, but quickly called off the training sequence as level fifteen prepared to start. 

“Excellent work!” Coran crowed, bustling into the room with fruit and water pouches. The four youngest paladins were panting on the floor, but reached up gratefully for the refreshments. 

“I don’t know if I can move.” Pidge managed between breaths. 

“The dramatics are usually Lance’s thing, Pidge,” Keith panted. 

“Aww, Mullet, I can’t believe you noticed.” 

“See? Lance’s thing.” Keith sat up and brushed his sweat soaked bangs away from his face. Shiro offered him a hand and Keith took it gratefully. 

“I’m canceling group practice for tonight,” Shiro said. “I know there are individual things you all have been eager to work on, so tonight we can talk about our strengths and weaknesses and figure out how we want to address them.” 

That night, they all gathered in the common room and discussed training regimens and new strategies. Allura wanted to work on her marksmanship since ranged weapons were key on missions. Lance wanted practice at hand-to-hand combat.  Pidge wanted to see if there was a way to hack the Galra ships and force open jail cells without Shiro having to do each one by hand. 

“It could save us a lot of time,” She said. “And I might even be able to steal information from their servers during the hack.” While Shiro agreed it was an efficient plan, he was hesitant to send Pidge into a ship on just the hunch that she could hack something as specific as lock codes. 

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.”

*** 

Lance was restless as they approached their next mission. It was an isolated prison, and as they approached in Hunk’s lion he could tell it was smaller than many of the others they had attacked. As Hunk pulled up alongside the ship, Lance jetted out towards the hull of the Galra Ship, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. 

“Does anyone else feel like there’s something different about this one?” He asked into the comms. Pidge responded as she and Keith jetted towards him. 

“I think you’re just nervous because the entry team is different. Keith said, jetting to Lance’s side. Lance nodded stiffly as he began cutting through the outer layer of the prison ship’s hull. Shiro had been wary about letting Pidge try hacking the Galra mainframe without an extra layer of defense, so he opted to be the sole outer defense while she snuck in with the remaining paladins. They had long since learned that there were never many ships coming for external defenses, so Shiro and the castle were in charge of any ships that showed up. Lance, Pidge and Keith had piled into the yellow lion and ridden to the ship. Hunk dropped them off then moved into position. He was bringing Allura in his lion for prisoner extraction, since his cargo bay rivaled the black lion’s in size. 

Lance ushered Pidge and Keith into the hull and quickly navigated them through the ship’s walls. Allura had taught them about internal airlock systems, which were large, sectioned off chambers that circled the entirety of a spaceship in case the hull was punctured. If the system sensed a breach, the rapid action seals between tubes would shut off, keeping the vacuum of space from sucking out the air within a ship. They helped damaged ships maintain a certain level of atmosphere, and were perfectly positioned between a ship’s outer and innermost barriers. 

The circle he’d cut out of the hull blew away as a rush of air left the ship. 

“Ok. We’re in.” Lance said as he ushered Keith and Pidge into the airlock chamber. They waited until an atmospheric forcefield sealed the hole they had made and flew to the far side of the chamber. Lance cut through again and pulled the circle of metal away from the entrance. However, as he made to climb into what should have been the usual prison wing, he stopped. He looked down towards the floor, a good two stories away. 

“Guys, we have a problem.” 

“Lance. Report.” Shiro said. 

“This one is different.” He leaned his head out of the hole and felt Pidge nudge her way in to look around him. “This prison is tall with jail cells spiraling three stories up. There’s no main hallway. The only place I see for Hunk to bring in his lion is on the ground floor, but I don’t know how we get prisoners from the top story all the way down and still keep us safe.” 

“Allura?” Shiro asked. 

“It sounds like we may have stumbled across a high security prison. At least that’s what Lance’s description makes me think.” 

“Anything that would let us know for sure?” Shiro said. 

“Lance, are there any cells with multiple prisoners, or are they all being held individually?”

Lance checked the hall for guards before jetting out of the hole. He glanced briefly around. 

“All individual. Does that mean they’re all dangerous? There are a lot of droids patrolling,” he said, ducking back into the hole before he could be spotted.

“Not physically dangerous; at least not to us.” Allura said speculatively. “It is most likely a sign that they were especially rebellious. Often these prisons hold individuals known for rallying others or leading groups against the Galra. It is... complicated to explain right now, but we have nothing to fear from them.” 

“But how do we get them out?” Keith said, his voice unusually tense. “I don’t know if we can fight our way out of here while ushering prisoners down three stories.” It was Pidge who spoke next. 

“Let me hack it. Maybe I can open all of the doors at once, and we can wing it from there. There are more of us to fight if need be. What do you think, Shiro?” 

The comms were silent for a long moment. 

“Pidge, go ahead and try. The second you think you have it, call for Hunk and Allura. All of you be careful. Look out for each other.” 

“Yes, dad,” Lance hummed, throwing Pidge a quick smile before turning serious. He waited until there was a gap between the patrolling guards before he activated his bayard and flew out of the hole and over to the nearest wall console. He held his rifle to his eye, sighting down each side before beckoning with one hand for Pidge, who was closely followed by Keith. Reached the console and immediately set to work, hooking it into a panel on her armor. Lance set about shooting guard droids from a distance, and Keith used his bayard to dispatch any that came close. A long minute passed, then suddenly Pidge spoke.

“Hunk, get ready.” She pressed a button triumphantly, and, all the doors on their floor slid up, freeing a series of confused prisoners. Hunk burst through the wall two floors down and Allura ran into the chamber, before speaking into the comms. 

“Pidge the doors aren’t open.” 

They all rushed to look over the edge to the cells at the floor below them and, sure enough, they were as well sealed as they’d been when they’d entered. Pidge cursed, quickly disconnecting from the wall. 

“Each floor has its own lock code. I need to get down there.” She dove over the edge and activated her jet pack. 

“Pidge!” Keith and Lance yelled. Keith flung himself over after her. Lance turned to the hall that was slowly filling with wary prisoners. 

“Well?” he said, running forward and shouldering his bayard. “If you want to get out of here, I suggest you follow me down,” he said as he shot an oncoming droid. “Allura, any way you can get up here?” 

“On my way.” 

Allura used her jetpack and met Lance, brandishing her Altean blaster and bringing up the rear of the group as they ushered the prisoners down towards the yellow lion, which Hunk was guarding with his blaster. 

“Second floor doors are open. Keith is leading them down. I’m heading to the first floor.” Pidge said quickly into the comms. 

“Pidge, you need someone to cover you!” Allura called. Luckily, Lance and Allura had practically spiraled their group to the second floor. The entire group was able to jog along fairly quickly, ducking and dodging when they were told and were, generally, far more capable than prisoners from other facilities Team Voltron had raided. They caught up to Keith’s group and Lance dove out from the middle of the two groups to find Pidge. She was backed against the first floor console, battling a guard droid with. 

“Pidge duck!” Lance yelled, taking aim at the guard. Pidge dropped to the floor and Lance fired. She went back to the console and, twenty seconds and five downed guards later, opened the doors of the first floor. She and Lance raced along, calling people out of their cells as they raced towards Hunk, who was trying to fight off a group of Galra with his bayard. Lance shot his way through the growing crowd, creating a path for Pidge and the prisoners. She helped them into the lion as he and Hunk fell into defensive positions. Very soon, Keith joined them, fighting off an ever growing crowd of Galra as Allura and Pidge worked to get all of the prisoners boarded. They were close to done, the majority of the prisoners already in the lion, when the door at the far side of the chamber opened and in walked a druid, flanked by another group of Galra. 

“Druid! Look out!” Keith yelled into the comms. 

“You guys need to get out of there,” Shiro commanded. 

Lance tried to aim at the druid, who kept gliding closer, but, every time he fired they phased to another location, allowing one of their men to take the shot. Their hands began to crackle with energy. 

“We’re ready! Get on board!” Allura called. Lance, Keith, and Hunk began to back towards the lion’s mouth, when the druid released a hailstorm of crackling energy. The three of them backed together instinctively, drawing up their shields. They grunted as the energy impacted the barriers. Lance deactivated his shield and began returning fire. 

“What are you doing?” Hunk yelled. 

“Covering you. Get in the damn ship!” Lance yelled as he took out two Galra. The energy dissipated, and the three of them moved back as the druid began charging their hands again. Lance fired at them twice, missing by milliseconds as they darted around. Hunk dropped his shield to run into the ship, and Lance heard the lion rumble to life. 

“Lance, we need to move.” Keith huffed, working to shield Lance as he kept firing at the Galra. They backed slowly into the lion’s mouth, and, the moment they were inside, it began to close its mouth. Lance heard a blood-curdling howl, and saw the druid bring their hands together. 

Rather than the storm of energy they had previously faced, this was a stream of lightning heading straight for him through the narrowing gap of the lion’s mouth. 

“Lance!” Keith yelled as he dove in front of him. 

The bulk of the lightning hit the edge of Keith’s shield; but the rest of it struck Keith in the hip. He curled in on himself as the druid magic coursed through his body. He convulsed violently, collapsing as the lion shot away from the prison. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi loves,
> 
> Sorry this one is late. It was a rough day. I'm going to the Women's March in DC tomorrow! Or later today, at this point. Wish me luck.
> 
> Anyways, I'm updating the tags as I go. Please check them if you have tw/cw things and let me know if there are trigger/content warnings I need to add. Also, a lot of this is already written, so there will be things that may be wrong considering the new information we'll be getting in S2. Stuff like facts about their families and backstories. Just bear with me.
> 
> Here's a reminder that you are loved <3
> 
> And with that, 
> 
> Have some angst.
> 
> xoxo  
> ~Tay

Lance had never been so scared. Keith writhed on the floor, crackling streams of energy dancing over his body.

“Keith!” Lance’s bayard deactivated in his hand and he fell to the ground beside his teammate. Allura ran up behind the two of them just as Shiro’s voice buzzed through the comms.

“What happened?” There was no sound but Keith’s strangled groans. “Anyone, report.”

“I-I don’t know.” Allura stammered, coming to kneel with Keith and Lance. "There was a druid, and-and Keith and Lance weren’t on the lion. We’re all on board now, but, Keith was hit with something from the druid.”

“He jumped in front of me.” Lance whispered. his hands hovered over Keith’s body. The crackles of druid energy had fizzled out, but he didn’t know if touching Keith would cause the energy to course into his body, or worse, would cause Keith more pain. He moved his face as close as he dared. “Keith? Can you hear me?” Keith took a shuddering breath, whimpering as his body convulsed. Lance hesitantly reached out to Keith and, when there was no burning shock, removed the other paladin’s helmet and pulled his head into his lap, not caring about the crowd of escapees watching. Pidge was keeping them from crowding too close, but Lance could feel their eyes, their held breath as they waited for Keith to respond. “Come on, buddy,” he whispered. “We’re having a bonding moment. I’m cradling you in my arms and you’re missing it.” Lance said, voice tight with worry.

Keith took a shuddering breath and Lance felt his breath stop.

“L-lance.” he choked. “Burning.” Allura made a relieved noise.

“Keith? I need you to stay conscious for us. We're almost to the castle, and then we will get you into the med bay and everything will be fine.” Keith tried to respond, but a shudder ran through him and his eyes fluttered shut.

“Hey, none of that.” Lance said, hands batting uselessly against Keith’s face. “You’re a star pilot. Follow directions. Stay awake for me.” Lance felt the lion land inside the castle hangars and Allura scooted forwards.

“Keith? I have to lift you now. I’m sorry if this hurts, but try to stay calm.” Lance helped Allura gather Keith into her arms and watched as she stood. Keith made one pained sound, and then was quiet. The hangar doors clamped shut as Lance gathered Keith’s bayard and helmet then followed Allura out of the lion and into the palace. Pidge and Hunk could handle the collection of prisoners.

Lance kept talking to Keith as they rushed through the halls.

“You’re doing great buddy. Stay awake for us, we’re almost there. You’re gonna be most badass dude in the galaxy if you manage to stay conscious for me. Only a bit farther now.“

He and Allura hurried into the med bay, the lights flashing on as they entered. She set Keith on a metal table and ran to a supply cupboard.

“Lance, get him out of his uniform. We need him in a healing suit.” In a second, Lance was leaning over Keith, shaking fingers seeking out the latches that would remove the armor pieces and then the zippers for the flight suit. Allura was rushing back, healing suit and other supplies in hand, when Keith started to hyperventilate. His eyes opened wide and his hands scrabbled for purchase on the metal table.

“Allura!” Lance shouted, his voice high with worry.

“He’s going into shock.” Allura said, dropping her cargo and rushing back across the room to grab a syringe.

“No, no, no, Keith. Stay calm. You were doing so well.” Lance grabbed one of Keith’s flailing hands and felt the other boy squeeze it tightly. “Breathe for me, Kogane. You can fight this.” Allura returned, uncapping the syringe’s needle with her teeth, and pushing against the piston until a bit of liquid dribbled out. She gestured to her neck, and Lance used the hand he had on Keith’s head to roll his head toward’s his own face. “Doing fine, Keith. You’re okay.”Allura pressed the needle into Keith’s neck and pushed the medicine into his body. Keith jolted, but slowly relaxed against the table, his breathing slowly evening out and his eyes fluttering closed.

Just then, Shiro burst into the room, running to the table. Allura wordlessly handed him the healing suit, and he and Lance slid Keith’s pliant body into the cool fabric as Allura prepped a healing pod. Lance zipped Keith in, and tried not to worry about the heat radiating from Keith’s pale skin. Shiro carried Keith to the pod and Lance watched as he was laid into the supports within the pod. The glass came up and, moments later, the beeping of the vitals monitors came through.

Allura typed on the console next to the pod and hummed before reading the chart aloud.

“He has a severe burn on his hip and undetermined muscle damage radiating out from it. Luckily, there doesn’t seem to be damage to any of his vital organs and, while there’s a bit of nerve damage surrounding the burn, he should make a full recovery within the pod, although it may take a few days. Burns take a lot of energy to heal and, though the pods accelerate the healing process, they can only work so quickly without straining the body.”

Lance released a breath he hadn’t noticed holding and felt all the strength drain out of him. Next thing he knew, he was sitting on the floor with Shiro kneeling in front of him, murmuring softly.

“You’re okay, Lance. You did great. Keith will be okay. Everyone is safe.” Lance tried to pull off his helmet, but his hands were shaking violently. Shiro saw the aborted movement and gently pulled it off for him.

“I should have listened to Allura,” he whispered when his head was free. ”We should’ve just moved immediately. We shouldn’t have challenged the druid.”

“Lance, I don’t think we had a choice.” Hunk said. Lance looked up to find Hunk, Pidge, and Coran in the room. That meant the wormhole jump was complete and the people they’d rescued were safely tucked away in the east wing. “If you hadn’t kept firing like you did, I may not have made it onto Yellow, and then where would we be? You two made sure the mission was a success. The druid got a lucky shot. We’ll get them next time.” Shiro offered Lance a hand and helped him to his feet. He leaned heavily against Shiro’s arm but, if the older paladin noticed, he didn’t mention it.

“You all did well today,” Shiro said to the group. “Pidge, despite a bump in the plan, you were successful. You should be very proud of yourself. We’ll take at least a week off. We don’t know how long Keith will need to heal, and he’ll need some time off afterwards.” The paladins all nodded. “Coran, what’s our eta to RD4?”

“Approximately 15 megaticks, or 20 minutes. I can prep refreshments in the kitchen, but I recommend everyone stay in uniform.”

“Alright,” Shiro said, clapping his hands. Take a short break, and then everyone meet at the entrance to the east wing in twenty minutes.”

 

* * *

 

The drop off at RD4, another refugee planet, was successful, as usual. They had done two other drops at RD4, and the people there were happy to help restock the ship’s kitchens. Some had even prepared gifts for Allura and the paladins, thanking them for past rescues or for reuniting a family. Hunk watched Lance smile tightly as he received a box of fruits from a young girl. Usually, the gifts and celebration were the blue paladin’s favorite part of the job, but he was more subdued that day. Hunk helped him smile for the girl and thanked her on his behalf before turning to Lance.

“Hey, just because Keith is out of commission right now, doesn’t mean you have to be the broody one,” he said, trying to get a smile out of his friend. The smile came but it didn’t reach Lance’s eyes. Hunk ruffled Lance’s hair and then volunteered Lance and himself for helping Coran take things onto the ship. When they returned, Allura and Pidge were talking to one of the individuals from the most recent mission. They were easily seven feet tall, with coarse black fur and and vicious looking horns, yet, despite what should have been an intimidating appearance, they looked earnest and approachable. However, as Hunk and Lance began to approach, they saw Allura’s face was schooled into her diplomatic smile, meanwhile Pidge looked openly upset. The pair wandered closer as the alien dropped to one knee, bowing to Pidge and Allura.

“You have no idea the horrors you have saved us from. For myself and my comrades, I thank you. Should you ever have need of the rebels of Dalthracx, we will be there. It would be an honor to fight alongside the Paladins of Voltron.” They bowed again, stood and left. Before Hunk and Lance could ask, Coran found them and put them back to work. Over the course of an hour, Hunk saw many more from the recent group bowing to Allura, Pidge, even Lance and himself. They all spoke cryptically about the fates they had been saved from. It was Hunk who spoke first when they were back on the ship.

“What was that about? All the bowing and weird thank yous? People are always grateful but… never like that,” he said, turning to Allura. She looked exhausted.

“It is… It is a long discussion. For now, we should wash up and rest. It has already been a taxing day. Tomorrow, when you are all ready, we can meet in the common room and debrief today’s mission.” Hunk looked over at Lance, who was dead on his feet. Pidge also looked like she was ready collapse.

“Good idea, Allura,” Shiro said.

“Dinner will be at the usual time, but I can deliver food to anyone unable to attend,” Coran said, looking around the circle.

Hunk threw an arm around Lance and felt him immediately lean into his side.

“Come on, buddy. Let’s get you to your room.” Hunk waved to the room and Shiro gave him a grateful smile. Hunk led Lance to his bedroom and sat him on the bed. He looked around Lance’s room, tidy, but with walls cluttered with trinkets and images from missions. He looked down at his friend. “You can’t beat yourself up about this, bro. What happened wasn’t your fault.” Lance was quiet, and hung his head in his hands.

“Hunk, the druid was aiming for me. Keith dove in front of me and now he’s laid up in the med bay.”

“So you could’ve blocked the shot?”

“What?”

“You were ready? With your shield up?”

“No, but—“

“Would you have jumped in front of Keith?”

“Of course, but—“

“Lance. Keith did what any of us would have done for you, and what you would have done for any of us. He saved your life, and he’s going to make a full recovery.” Hunk laid a hand on Lance’s shoulder and gave him a gentle shake. “I think that’s as good of a day we could have asked for.” Lance sighed, then looked up at his best friend. He gave Hunk a smile that was small and sad, but honest.

“Thanks, Hunk.”

Hunk smiled and walked into Lance’s bathroom. He turned on the shower.

“Go wash up. Hopefully I’ll see you at dinner, but if not, I’ll bring you some food. I’m also in my room if you wanna swing by.” And with that, Hunk left.

Lance fumbled his way out of his uniform and slid his flight suit down the laundry chute. He stepped into the shower and let the hot water relax his muscles, trying his hardest not to think about their latest mission.

Two hours later, Hunk carried a plate of food to Lance’s room, only to find the blue paladin whimpering in his sleep. He slid a hand through Lance’s hair.

“Everything’s okay, buddy.” He looked around the room and found Lance’s tablet. He searched for the rain sounds that the other boy had asked Pidge to find and turned them on low. He stayed for a minutes, watching Lance and petting his hair until he seemed to calm down. The other boy had always responded well to physical affection; he said it came from having such a big family. And Lance was Hunk’s family. They all were now.

Hunk slipped out of the room and back to the kitchen. He stored the untouched plate in the refrigeration unit and rejoined the others in the dining room.

“He’s asleep,” he told the others. Shiro nodded and Allura looked relieved.

“Good,” she said. “He did very well today, even if he doesn’t realize.”

 

* * *

 

Lance woke up ravenous. As quickly as he could, he washed his face, got dressed and made his way to breakfast, where he was greeted by Coran.

“Good morning, Lance! Take a seat and I will bring you some food.”

Lance made his way to his usual seat beside Hunk, but was acutely aware of the vacant seat across from him. He did his best to answer Shiro and Allura’s usual questions, and even managed to say good morning to Pidge when she stumbled into breakfast more asleep than awake, but, the moment he was done with his food, he cleared his plate and made his way to the med bay.

He looked at Keith, resting in his pod. His face looked tense, as if all his muscles were straining against some unseen force. Lance remembered Allura’s comment about the energy burns required, and hoped that it was a just the physical strain of healing, but he couldn’t help being distrustful of the druid magic. He knew Shiro had experience with the Druids and still had nightmares about his time with the Druids and the Galra. What happened if Keith was having nightmares? There was no telling when he would wake up. Would he just be trapped in them until his body was healed enough to end the healing pod’s stasis?

Lance sighed and sat down in front of the pod, pressing his back to the cool glass. He listened to the beeping of the monitors and, before he knew it, Pidge was waking him up.

“Hey, Allura wants to talk about the stuff on RD4 yesterday. Are you up to it?”

Lance nodded and got to his feet, stretching and rubbing the feeling back into his tailbone.

“I’m fine, Pidge. Lead the way,” He said, trying to ignore her eyes on him.

Allura was pacing as Lance and Pidge entered the bridge. She was tracking back and forth behind Coran, who was at the helm, muttering to herself in Altean. She didn’t even look up as Pidge and Lance entered, settling down in the captain’s chair and on the floor in front of it, respectively. Shiro was standing in the back, and Hunk was leaned against a deactivated control panel.

Allura stopped pacing and turned towards them. She was still looking down at the ground, but Lance could see her tense expression from where he sat. Her brow was furrowed and her lips were pursed. She was obviously upset by whatever was coming next. She took a few deep breaths before looking up at them and speaking.

“I know you must all be confused, and that you will have questions. But allow me to speak my piece and then I will answer your questions as best I can. This… It is a practice I only have secondhand knowledge of, but I understand its general form.” She took another deep breath and a diplomatic calm passed over her face. “The high security prison we liberated was a facility used to hold individuals who had been the leaders of certain famous rebellions, or had been important to peoples and cultures that had given the Galra trouble. You may have noticed that these prisoners seemed to be held more humanely than those we had rescued from other facilities. This is because they were being kept.” She took another deep breath. “Amongst Galra nobility and higher ups in their military, it is common for people to have live trophies. This is most often seen amongst high ranking military officers, many of whom retire into nobility. For a general who conquers an exceptionally rebellious enemy, it is common for them to keep that enemy’s leader prisoner and tote them around as a symbol of their accomplishment. It is especially disheartening for a city or culture to see one of their admired leaders reduced to a servant for the enemy. This is a long-standing Galra tradition that, though less widely practiced, is still common. The people we rescued knew that they were fated to be… prizes. It would have been a life of abuse. Many of these poor people die within a few months. They are… viciously beaten for disobedience, and viciously beaten for no reason at all. It is being enslaved to the Galra in an entirely new way, sometimes more terrible than the destruction we have seen.”

She finished and the room was silent. Lance leaned forward, resting his head on his knees trying to process what he had heard. Shiro was pale and tense, the knuckles of his human hand pale where he was gripping his Galra tech arm. Hunk’s jaw was clenching and unclenching, the muscle jumping visibly. Finally, Pidge spoke up.

“How many more facilities do you think there are like the last one?” Allura thought for a moment, before responding carefully.

“I honestly do not know. We stumbled upon the last one by accident. I don’t even know if the practice is still the same among the Galra. While I believe so, I am unsure what the popularity of it is. There could be anywhere from three to thirty of these facilities. Maybe even more.”

“And there’s no way to identify them?” Shiro asked.

“Maybe… It is possible that Pidge’s hacking could help us identify a signature unique to these facilities in order to help us better locate them, but it would take time to figure out if it was even a possibility.”

“I was more rushed than I wanted during the last mission…” Pidge said quietly. “I wasn’t able to take much of anything digital from the facility.” Allura nodded slowly.

“It’s okay Pidge. No one asked for anything specific, and even if we had, you wouldn’t have had time.” Pidge nodded to herself and Lance sat up, blindly reaching back to pat her on the leg. She rested a hand on his head and idly scratched her nails against his scalp. They were all quiet for a while before Allura spoke again.

“Do not feel that you have to fully understand this immediately. Please continue to rest. We will wait for Keith to come of the healing pod and then we will reassess our situation. If anyone wants to talk, I am available.”

Shiro was the first to leave, rare for these little meetings of theirs, but understandable. Hunk, Lance, and Pidge all left together, walking in silence until they split off, Hunk and Pidge going down to the lab, Lance to the med bay.

Lance sat in front of Keith’s pod again. He didn’t know what he hoped to accomplish by this, but he found it relaxed him just to be near his teammate. When Keith awoke, Lance would be there for him, ready to help however possible.

He dozed of in front of the pod, the beeping of Keith’s monitors soothing his frantic mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again,
> 
> Keep your heads up lovelies.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi loves!
> 
> My girlfriend and I are about to start season two!!! Hopefully it'll give me more feels to write.
> 
> This chapter is one of my favorites so far. We start having real Klance moments. It's pretty gay.  
> (don't think I didn't notice how many more of you started reading after I tagged this in the ship. I see you.)
> 
> Anywho, this one's fluffier than the others, so enjoy!
> 
> xoxo  
> ~Tay

The third day Keith was in the healing pod, Shiro pulled Hunk aside to talk to him about Lance. The other boy had been distant and listless while Keith was recovering. It was as if the castle was missing two people rather than one, as Lance’s carefree, boisterous nature had all but disappeared. He would make the occasional joke, but the spark was gone. Shiro could see Lance trying for normal, but missing it. Only after much coaxing from Hunk would they see a genuine smile. According to Hunk, this was normal for him while stressed.

“He always sort of retreats into himself when he’s really worried,” Hunk had said. “I know he feels really guilty about what happened to Keith, even though he knows it wasn’t his fault. He should bounce right back when he sees Keith out of the pod.”

Said pod was a delicate subject. Lance practically refused to leave it. The others worked hard to draw him out of the med bay and include him in castle activities, but any time he could get away, he was sitting with Keith in the med bay. Shiro would find Lance on the floor of the med bay most mornings, curled up in a blanket from one of the sick-beds, and dozing on the floor, the automatic lights off from lack of movement.

Hunk and Pidge tried their best to include Lance in things, but he preferred to be by himself, splitting his time between the med bay and, surprisingly, the training room. Sometimes, when Shiro went to get a workout in, he would find Lance either running on the Altean equivalent of a treadmill or doing target practice with his bayard. In all his time training the other paladins, Shiro had never seen Lance so focused. Coran, like Hunk and Pidge, was also trying to pull Lance into more activities around the castle, and, for whatever reason, the chores actually seemed to calm the blue paladin. Shiro caught Pidge spying on Lance as he helped Coran clean the memory pods. Lance was smiling as he listened to Coran ramble about Alfor and Altea of old.

Pidge smiled up at Shiro as he leaned over her to watch the pair.

“Lance always cleans when he’s stressed,” Pidge whispered. “He and his siblings used to compete doing chores on the weekend so they could run down to the docks. At the Garrison, he would clean his and Hunk’s room from top to bottom if he was stressed about a test or something. He would always talk about his home while he went, though sometimes he would just listen to music.”

Shiro smiled into the room then ushered Pidge away, not wanting to disrupt the genuinely peaceful moment.

It was interesting to see how Team Voltron had become so close. Even though Keith was one of the quietest of the paladins, his absence somehow left the castle eerily silent.

 

* * *

 

Lance toweled his hair as he walked from the training room showers to the med bay. When he got there, Pidge and Allura were looking at the monitors around Keith’s pod.

“What’s going on?” Lance asked as he entered, crossing to Pidge and her series of screens.

“We’re checking on Keith’s recovery,” she said happily. “Allura was teaching me how to pull up the different monitor screens so I can look at all of the basics while he’s in the pod.” She flicked her hands outwards and four hologram screens appeared in midair. “The two on the lefthand side are Keith when he’d just entered the pod. The outermost shows the damage from the burn and the innermost is his vitals, including brain activity.”

Lance looked at the holograms, wincing as he looked at the dark blot of the burn and the tendrils that seemed to flow out of it and into the surrounding muscle. The bolt had struck just above Keith’s left hip, and the energy had spread over his abdomen and down his left leg. He looked at the vitals chart and saw elevated brain activity, likely from his going into shock, as well as his heart rate, which had moved down from it’s panicked pounding to a steady level when he had entered the pod.

“This is him now?” Lance asked, gesturing to the holograms on the right.

“Yes,” Allura said, coming up behind him and Pidge. “He’s doing quite well. You can see the damage from this initial strike has greatly reduced, and his vitals have been normal for the last day.”

“Normal?”

“Keith had moments where his brain and heart activity would increase, likely from the stress of healing such an intensive burn.” Allura zoomed in on the first image of the burn, then pulled the current one up alongside. “You can see that the muscles damaged in the attack are now healed, though it may take a while for him to regain all of his strength.”

Even though the black tendrils were almost completely gone from the current image, the black mark of the strike still seemed harsh against the digitized area of Keith’s waist. Lance nodded and forced a smile. Allura patted his shoulder and returned to the console closest to the pod, typing away. Lance turned to look at Keith, pale yet peaceful, in the healing pod. Pidge came and leaned against Lance’s side.

“It’s hard to keep positive, seeing one another in pain… but he is getting better. And when he gets out, he’ll be right as rain and will probably yell at us for worrying so much.” They both chuckled and Pidge rubbed a hand up and down Lance’s back before turning back to the monitors.

 

* * *

 

It was another two days before Keith was ready to come out of the pod. Lance had been in the med bay reading on his tablet when her heard the monitors whir to a stop. He jumped up and ran to the communication panel on the wall.

“Allura? it’s done. He’s—“

“Already on our way, Lance,” she said. Lance rushed over to the pod and listened as the internal systems slowly rumbled into silence. Just as everyone else came into the room, the glass slid up and away. The supports snapped open and Keith’s chest rose and fell as he took a breath. He fell forward out of the pod, but was caught by Lance and Hunk. Shiro carefully took Keith from them and carried him to one of the beds in the room. Allura bustled over with a tablet, already scanning Keith’s body. His eyelids fluttered weakly, but he didn’t open his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Hunk asked, “Why isn’t he awake?”

“He’s still on heavy doses of painkillers. I upped the dosage two days ago to help with the last of the healing process. Even though the burn is gone, his body still needs to rest.” Allura said calmly, though it did nothing to quell the panic in Lance’s chest. “He should be fully awake within the hour, though he’ll still be groggy.” Shiro nodded along to her words.

“We’ll be here for him as a team,” Shiro said. And with that, they settled in. Lance found himself sitting on the floor sandwiched between Hunk and Pidge. Pidge pulled out her tablet and scattered about some new program she was working on, and Lance was grateful for the noise. At one point, Coran left to retrieve water pouches, setting two by Keith’s bedside before distributing more to the other paladins. Allura was looking at a chart on her tablet, face tense. Lance figured she was worried about Keith. She was the only other member of the team who had seen the worst of it. For days, Lance had been unable to get the image of Keith, writhing on the floor while crackling with dark energy, out of his mind.

Lance was pulled from his reverie by a nudge from Hunk, almost immediately followed by Pidge, who had suddenly gone quiet, scrambling to her feet. A quiet groan floated to him from across the room.

Keith was waking up.

 

* * *

 

The first thing Keith noticed was he was very comfortable. He was laying down on something soft, and he was warm. Next, he heard was voices. Pidge was talking science somewhere nearby. Shiro was somewhere else, whispering to Coran. Allura was muttering in Altean, likely to herself. He tried to speak, but his dry throat only allowed for a frog-like croak. The room went quiet, and then there was a flutter of activity.

“Don’t crowd him,” Shiro whispered.

“Keith?” Allura said. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and tried to look towards it. It took a few tries to open his eyes, but he managed to look to his side. He was greeted by Allura’s relieved smile. He groaned again, still unable to form words. “Here,” she said, quickly passing him a water pouch. Shiro helped him sit up and he drank eagerly, emptying the pouch quickly. He heard the bed whirring behind him and felt the cushions raise to meet his back. 

“How long was I out?” he croaked.

“Five days,” Pidge answered. “You really had us worried for a bit.”

He tried to think back, and his confusion must have shown on his face.

“Take your time,” Shiro said soothingly. Keith looked around the bed and found five nervous pairs of eyes on him. His brow furrowed. Something was off.

He remembered seeing the druid raise its hands and aim at Lance, and then his body just moved. His shield caught most of the hit, but—

“Lance,” he croaked. Heads turned to look behind him, and he saw the blue paladin, sitting on the floor. He was trying to hide the tears rolling slowly down his face, as he smiled up at his team.

“I’m fine,” he hiccuped. “I’m just… relieved.” Keith found himself chuckling.

“Hunk was right. You are a big softie.” Lance looked stunned for a moment, and then a grin broke across his face.

“Still better looking than you,” he said, getting to his feet and approaching the bed. He laid on hand on Keith’s foot and looked down at the ground. “Thank you,” he said quietly. He looked up at Keith and his eyes were fierce yet sad. “You saved my life.”

“You would have done the same for me, right?” Keith asked. He forced a smile as he met Lance’s eyes.

“Yeah,” Lance said. “I would’ve.” Keith looked around to find the others beaming at the two of them. He couldn’t help but smile back.

 

* * *

 

Shiro helped Keith to his room and, embarrassingly enough, helped him wash up. After the initial welcome party, Keith had noticed how incredibly gross he felt. According to Allura, the strike had done a number on his leg and, while he was still mobile, he didn’t trust himself to stand in the shower on his own. Shiro left him sitting on the bed and promised to return soon with food. Keith toweled his hair and put himself under the covers. Allura said he would be tired for a few more hours as the painkillers worked their way out of his system, and he could feel that he would probably be asleep within the hour.

Shiro returned with a plate of food and more water pouches. Keith took the food eagerly, and Shiro set the water pouches on the bedside table. Shiro pulled the only chair in the room from the corner to the bedside and sat looking at Keith.

“We really missed you while you were out,” Shiro said after a minute. “It was too quiet without you here.” Keith snorted around a mouthful of food.

“I’m sure Lance was still plenty loud while I was gone,” he chuckled. He looked up at Shiro, only to find him looking at Keith cryptically. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Lance was… really worried about you. He was really withdrawn while you were healing. Hunk said he felt guilty—“

“That’s dumb.” Shiro huffed out a laugh.

“We know, and we told him that. But, even though he knows what happened wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t seem to get over it. He missed a few meals, and only really slept on the floor in front of the pod. You should try and talk to him, once you’re feeling up to it.”

Keith ate quietly while Shiro rambled on about what he and the others had done for the past few days, but he couldn’t focus on what Shiro was saying. Keith knew that Lance was sensitive. Hunk had told him so and Pidge’s stories from the Garrison proved it without a doubt, but he didn’t know what to think about Lance getting all worked up about his absence. If Lance had been falling asleep in front of the pod, then he had been visiting, and frequently by the sounds of it. Maybe the two of them were finally ready to be friends? Keith must have started dozing off while he thought, because next think he knew Shiro was pulling the plate from his hands and laying him back against his pillow. Shiro murmured to him in that paternal way he sometimes did. The last thing Keith remembered was Shiro’s cool, mechanical hand in his hair, and then he was asleep.

 

* * *

 

Shiro and Allura made Keith take a full day off before letting him into the training room.

“I would prefer you rest for longer, but I don’t think I could stop you,” Shiro sighed. Two days later, Keith was in the training room, trying to get his left leg back in working order.

“I guess every day is leg day for a while, huh?”

Keith turned his head, looking towards the door. Lance was entering the room, dressed for a workout. Keith stepped out of his lunge and walked to his water pouch by the wall.

“Just trying to get some strength back. I don’t want us to have to take too much time off because of me,” Keith answered.

“It’s okay if you need time, though.” Lance walked over and set his towel and water pouch down by Keith’s stuff. “No one is rushing you.”

“I know, but I don’t want to hold us back.” Lance nodded before settling into a stretch. Keith watched for a moment before clearing his throat. “Shiro asked me to talk to you. About while I was in the pod.” Lance stilled and straightened up. He gave Keith his trademark easy-going smirk.

“It’s really nothing. I was just overreacting—“

“Lance.”

“I just wanted to know you were okay.”

“Shiro said you fell asleep outside my pod…a lot. He didn’t even know if you were sleeping in your room.”

“It wasn’t that bad. I got plenty of sleep,” Lance said, trying not to think about the nights when he’d closed his eyes only to see Keith on the floor of the yellow lion. It often sent him from his room to the med bay. “I was just…” his voiced dropped to a whisper. “Seeing you would help me feel calm.”

“What had been making you feel… not calm?” Keith asked. He saw Lance’s adams apple bob as he swallowed nervously.

“I couldn’t stop seeing it,” he said quietly “If I wasn’t looking at you in the pod, I was seeing you on the ground and the energy moving around you. It was terrifying. I was worried you were going to die.”

“I didn’t though,” Keith said with a small smile. Lance snorted.

“True…”

“But?”

“But if you had, it would’ve been my fault.” Keith fought not to roll his eyes.

“Why do you keep thinking that? Would you have rather died? We’re both here and we’re both fine. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“But aren’t you afraid?” Lance said. His voice was strong, but his hands were shaking. “The seven of us are too close now. I don’t know what any of us would do if someone was suddenly gone. I don’t know how I would cope if something took me away from you guys. I… I already lost one family. They’re stuck on Earth, and I know that I may never see them again, but having you guys… You guys make this bearable. I don’t know what I’d do it I lost you.”

They were both silent for a long moment, before Keith stepped forward and pulled Lance to him. He tugged the taller boy’s shoulders down and wrapped his arms around his neck. Lance stiffened, before hesitantly returning the hug. They spent a long minute hugging, Keith trying to ignore the almost desperate way Lance seemed to clutch at him. Keith spoke quietly into Lance’s shoulder.

“You’re a bigger softie than Hunk let on, you sentimental idiot.”

“Shut up, Mullet.”

 

* * *

 

It was two weeks before they went on another mission. Even after Keith had almost completely regained his leg and core strength, Shiro made the team do group combat twice a day before he was convinced they could handle another mission. After they got started again, they fell into their usual rhythm: stage break out, deliver the rescued to safety, spend a day training and strategizing, repeat. It wasn’t until after three weeks of raids, when Voltron answered a distress beacon, that they realized how much the team had grown.

Forming Voltron was easier than ever. They communicated almost wordlessly as they fought off a Galra fleet. The fight was finished quickly, and the team was able to find and help the rebel fighters who had hailed them. They all returned to the ship in good spirits.

“Team Voltron is back, baby!” Lance crowed, pulling off his helmet and high-fiving Hunk. “Did anyone else notice how totally in sync we were out there?” Shiro smiled at his team.

“You’re not wrong Lance. We have been more in sync recently,” he said, ushering them from the hangar towards the bridge. Coran and Allura met them with praise and refreshments.

“You all have certainly improved as a team since Keith’s recovery,” Allura said with a smile. Pidge snorted into her hand.

“I think we all know what the missing link was,” she said, looking pointedly at Keith and Lance. The pair looked confused, before Shiro spoke up.

“It’s true. The two of you are definitely closer than you were. You understand each other better, and that has strengthened Voltron.” Something mischievous came into Shiro’s eyes. “Who knows, maybe all of those ‘bonding moments’ paid off.” Shiro turned and left the room before either Keith or Lance could respond. Pidge and Hunk were doubled over laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wasn't that gay?
> 
> xo


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 400 hits!!!
> 
> Thank y'all so much for suffering with me!
> 
> Here's another one. Rough waters ahead. Please heed the tag updates and let me know if there are any trigger/content warnings I need to add. 
> 
> Have a great week!
> 
> xoxo  
> ~Tay

It was the night before a mission. Lance stood shirtless in his bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror. He had definitely gained muscle mass in the past three months. He knew he would always be skinny (just like his dad and uncles), but he was no longer the scrawny kid his older sister could pick up and throw in the pool. He looked at his hair. It was getting long, and starting to curl around his ears. He would have to ask Coran to cut it for him when they got back from tomorrow’s mission.

He reached for one of the bottles on his sink. It was an Altean face scrub Allura had taught him to make. It combined some of the more common fruits they had access to and always left his skin feeling well moisturized. He rinsed his face then rubbed the mask into his skin, careful to keep it out of his too-long bangs. When he was done washing his face, he brushed his teeth and removed his jeans. He crawled into bed in just his boxers and reached for his eye mask. He laid back and heard the click of the lights shutting themselves off. He sighed as he relaxed himself into bed before mumbling his prayers for the night.

His mother had been a devout Catholic, and she had taken him and his siblings to mass every Sunday and Wednesday. He knew all of the traditional prayers, forwards and backwards, in Spanish. He knew some of them in English, but found himself defaulting to Spanish while saying the traditional prayers, and his own prayers usually followed suit. He sighed the end of his prayers into the air,“ _en el nombre del Padre, y del Hijo, y del Espíritu Santo. Amen,_ ” before rolling over and searching for sleep.

 

* * *

 

Morning came and Lance met his fellow paladins for breakfast. He sat across from Keith and began to eat. Coran had prepped fruit and some new grain they had been given on a refugee planet. It reminded Lance of cereal already soaked with milk, even though they ate it dry.

When everyone was clustered around the table, Allura addressed the table.

“I think today we should attempt to liberate one of the tri-prison clusters. We have successfully done two prisons in one mission and, now that Pidge has mastered finding lock codes, I think we should ‘take a whack at it,’ as you all say.”

“How do we deal with the prisoner load?” Hunk asked around his food. “My lion has held two facilities-worth of people, but it’s tight. I don’t think Yellow can hold three.” Allura nodded.

“Thank you Hunk. I think we will have to switch you and Shiro out for taking people to the castle. Pidge, Lance, and I can take your speeder from your lion to the prisons and can use it to travel between the ships. You will take the first two groups to the castle, and Shiro will meet us at the third prison. The black lion can hold two speeders with room for everyone we pick up.”

“That leaves Keith alone against any ships,” Shiro said.

“I’ll be fine,” Keith said. “Even when we run up against small fleets, the two of us can take care of most of them before the inside group even gets to the second ship. I’m sure I can handle anyone who shows up.” Shiro looked unhappy, but agreed with Keith. Lance had never been on the outside team, he had mastered sneaking into the prisons and it seemed silly to switch him out now, but it always seemed like the quickest part of any mission. Most prisons were only protected by three or four ships each, and these alway seemed unprepared for company.

Within the hour, Team Voltron was heading towards a cluster of prison ships floating beside a small yet bright star. Shiro, Keith, and Hunk shot out of the castle, which was hidden in the glow of the star, and towards the prison ships. Allura piloted the speeder out of the yellow lion and alongside the first prison ship. Lance cut their way in and guided Pidge to the security console. He and Allura covered her using their blasters as she hacked the mainframe and, as she obtained the lock codes, the yellow lion burst into the prison. Hunk and Lance set to work protecting the escaping prisoners from the guards, who, after the initial wave of security droids, were entirely Galra soldiers.

“Hunk, does this feel off to you?” Lance yelled as he shot at the Galra.

“By that do you mean fewer bots, more furry dudes?” Hunk responded, grunting as he hefted his blaster to fire a series of beams through the crowd.

“Exactly.”

“Less chatter,” Pidge shouted into the comms. “Hunk you’re clear to go. Lance, we’ve gotta get to the speeder,” She yelled as she burst past him and down an empty hallway. Lance pulled up his shield to help cover Hunk’s run into his lion, before he ducked into the hall, following Pidge and Allura. They exited the ship the and boarded the speeder, darting to the second ship.

The second prison ship was handled with ease. There were more full-fledged Galra present in that one too, but Lance chose not to care. Anyone in their way would be taken out. It didn’t matter if they were robots or organic.

When Allura pulled the speeder alongside the third prison ship, Shiro reported he was on his way to the last ship. By the time Pidge was hacking the mainframe, Shiro was in position outside. The black lion forced its head into the ship and all of the cell doors flew open right as Keith buzzed into the comms.

“Guys, that ship’s bay doors are open, and there’s a grey ship docked inside,”

Before anyone could respond, the doors at the far end of the main chamber opened and in marched an irate Galra official, flanked by a company of armed soldiers.

The room dissolved into chaos. Lance and Allura did their best, using their blasters to hold off the approaching soldiers, while Pidge and Shiro ushered frantic prisoners onto the black lion. Lance fired his blaster relentlessly, spurred on by the panicked and sometimes pained shouts of the prisoners they were supposed to be saving. It was his job to protect them, and there was no way he was going to fail. Nevertheless, he and Allura were outnumbered, and the shooting turned into close combat as the Galra reached the paladins’ line of defense. Two of the Galra rushed for Shiro and a cluster of prisoners, and within seconds Shiro had switched from guiding to fighting. Pidge dove in to lead the group of prisoners, urging them to help each other, but her words barely reached them over the noise.

Keith was yelling through the comms. He had picked up the yellow lion’s speeder and was urging them to get onto the black lion. The castle had picked up incoming Galra forces, and they only had minutes before they would be completely overrun.

Lance ducked under the reaching hand of a Galra and forced his elbow into the back of its head. He kicked his foot into the chest of another, forcing it away, before aiming his blaster. Beside him, Allura picked up a soldier and threw him into his comrades. Lance tried to use his blaster to force the Galra back, but soon he and Allura were backed against the wall.

He registered Shiro calling them from somewhere beyond the crowd of enemies. Lance caught a glimpse of his mechanical arm as is sliced through the crowd, but was distracted as a Galra punched its hand up into his gut. Lance doubled over, but kept a grip on his blaster. He shot the Galra in the leg and watched it stumble before shooting it twice in the chest. He and Allura fought their way away from the wall and had practically reached Shiro and the black lion when something like fire struck Lance's right shoulder. He yelled, falling to the ground, and his bayard clattered away, deactivating as it slid into a wall.

“Lance!” Shiro and Allura yelled from the lion’s mouth. Lance winced as he scrambled to his feet. He ran to his bayard, just barely snatching it up when he felt the arms of a Galra snake around him. It yanked him into the air, forcing the air from his lungs as its arms cinched around Lance’s ribs.

“Shiro!” Lance screamed, watching the older paladin’s eyes widen in horror. Allura was firing into the crowd and Shiro ran forward out of the black lion’s mouth. Lance used his good arm to elbow his captor in the face before throwing his bayard towards the black paladin. Lance just barely saw him catch it, before his view was blocked by more Galra. No matter how many Galra he kicked or elbowed away, he kept getting pulled farther away from Shiro and Allura, who were now trapped against the lion, blocked by even more Galra. He was being carried. He twisted, looking back at Allura, who was screaming something he couldn’t hear, as he was carried through a doorway. The automatic doors snapped closed and he lost sight of his team.

 

* * *

 

Pidge was in the cockpit of the black lion. She had secured the rescued prisoners in the lower bay and was waiting for Allura, Lance, and Shiro to get on board. Keith was yelling into the comms that they needed to leave immediately. She laid her hands against the control panel, willing the lion into action, but it refused to acknowledge her without its paladin on board. She heard Lance and Shiro screaming into the comms, blaster fire ringing in the background. Lance was groaning and Allura shouted something in Altean.

Suddenly, the lion rumbled to life, meaning Shiro was on board. Moments later he was in the cockpit, spurring his lion into motion. They peeled away from the ship and shot toward the castle. Coran had pulled the castle away from the star and was waiting in the open. A wormhole was already opening on the far side of the caste.

They swung into the hangar moments after the red lion, and the particle barrier glittered into place as the bay doors snapped shut. Laser fire from outside could be heard contacting the shield for just a moment before Coran had thrown them into the wormhole. Pidge felt herself sigh in relief as the Castle flew away.

The castle stopped and she turned to Shiro, seemingly frozen in the pilot’s chair.

“Shiro?” She said carefully. The older man was sweating, chest heaving as his hands clenched around the controls and…

“Why do you have Lance’s bayard?” Pidge asked. She felt her pulse quicken. “Shiro?” she whispered frantically. Shiro closed his eyes and hung his head.

“I’m sorry, Pidge.”

She shook her head. It was wrong. They’d had close calls, but never— She ran out of the cockpit and jumped down the ladder into the cargo bay. She pushed through the crowd of prisoners, calling Lance’s name. She passed through the crowd and found Allura on the floor, head in her hands, helmet at her side.

“A-Allura?” Pidge managed, her heart lodged in her throat. The Altean princess looked up, and her mouth thinned into a line. “How?”

“There were too many of them, Pidge. We got separated at the end and… they took Lance.”

A long minute passed between them, before Shiro came below. He didn’t say anything as he opened the rear door and began ushering people out of the lion. Pidge fell in, helping him with the few who had been injured. She and Allura took them for treatment in the med bay and fell quickly into their work. Silence reigned. Before long, Hunk, Keith and Shiro came into the room.

“Everyone is in the east wing and Coran has us on course for Vector 6,” Hunk said, finally shaking his head out of his helmet. “Since there were prisoner casualties he wants to… Was Lance not down here?”

No one responded. Hunk’s eyes darted to the healing pods, but there was no sign of blue paladin.

“What happened.” Hunk said, voice suddenly firm. Pidge looked at Hunk. In all the time she’d known him, she’d never seen him look quite so terrifying, not even on Shay’s Balmera. He whirled on Shiro, pulling the black paladin by the chest piece. “What happened? Where is he?” Hunk yelled. Keith grabbed at Hunk’s shoulder, trying to pull him away from the older paladin. Allura shouted at Hunk to stand down, even though Shiro wasn’t resisting. It was Pidge’s voice that cut through the noise.

“Hunk, they took him.” Hunk’s head whipped in her direction, Keith’s following.

“What?” Keith gasped.

“She’s right,” Shiro said, stepping out of Hunk’s slackened grip. “Some sort of warden came in and he had too many soldiers for us to handle. Lance got shot and then separated from me and Allura. They grabbed him, and we couldn’t help.”

“We have to go get him.” Keith said.

“There are too many ships in the area right now,” Allura whispered. “Especially since we can’t form Voltron. I would be risking the rest of you to head back there now—“

“So what? We’re just going to wait until they’ve moved him somewhere even farther away?”

“Keith, that’s not what I’m saying—“

“Well, what else does that mean?” he snapped. His face was flushed and he was sweating.

“Keith I need you to calm down so we can talk about this.” Allura said, hands raised towards the red paladin.

“Talking doesn’t get Lance away from the Galra.”

“Keith,” Allura shouted. “We will do what we can. You have my word. However, I will not put the rest of you at risk when I have already failed a paladin today!”

Allura’s voice echoed through the room for a moment. Keith looked far from placated, but stood down, clenching his fists at his side as he struggled to control his breathing.

“You all need to rest. Coran and I will handle transferring the refugees. Anyone who feels up to it may join us, but I recommend you all go wash up and try to relax. I foresee more discussion about this later tonight. Dismissed.”

Despite having told them all to leave, it was Allura who exited, quickly, from the room. The paladins looked at one another, lost.

 

* * *

 

Lance lost track of the turns he and his Galra escort had taken. They had stripped him of his armor, leaving him in just his flight suit, and then cuffed him and led him onto a grey ship; but Lance couldn’t focus enough to track his trek through the vessel. Having his arms trapped behind his back had done nothing to help the pain in his shoulder, which had only increased over time.

The guard pushed him into a room that he quickly recognized as the cockpit of the ship. A tall stern Galra turned around and smiled at him. The Galra had a scar running up the right side of his face, stopping just below his eye, and was missing a chunk from his right ear. He was wearing a sleek black uniform that only seemed to accentuate his muscles.The guard at Lance’s back forced him to his knees as the Galra in charge stalked towards him.

“So you are a paladin of Voltron,” the Galra growled.

“And you are an overgrown, purple chinchilla. Is that it for introductions?” The Galra looked stunned before he grinned cruelly.

“Glad to see the paladins haven’t lost their fighting spirit. Now, let me tell you how this is going to happen.” He leaned close and took Lance by the throat, pulling him up off the floor. He coughed, struggling uselessly in the Galra’s firm grip. “While you are with me, you will do what I say. If you are lucky, I won’t have to send you to any of my friends, you see…” he dug a pointed claw into Lance’s cheek, “they aren’t as nice as I am.” He dropped Lance to the ground and he gasped for air, wincing as his injured shoulder impacted the floor. The Galra turned and walked back to the pilot’s chair. “Hopefully, we can get along. Take him to Holding Room Beta. I want him nearby.”

Lance was roughly pulled up and marched down another series of halls, until they came to what looked like a blank hallway. His guard pressed his hand into a part of of the wall and a door slid open. He removed the handcuffs and pushed Lance into an empty, square room; he barely got his hands out in front of him as he fell forwards. He heard the door click shut. He sat up and looked around the room. If he hadn’t seen the door for himself, he wouldn’t believe it was there. The room was small and impressively blank. Lance crawled to a corner, positioning himself so he could see the wall that hid the door. He shifted so he wasn’t putting too much weight on his shoulder, and tried to calm his breathing.

He was a prisoner on a Galra ship. He was separated from his friends, and there was no telling when he would see them again. Lance didn’t let himself think if. Team Voltron would rescue him, he just had to give them time. A plan started to form in the back on Lance’s head. He just had to buy some time for himself and his team. They would save him. They had to.

Lance adjusted again, whimpering at the pain in his shoulder, and looked around the blank holding room. He sighed and closed his eyes. He just had to wait.

 

* * *

 

The castle was quiet. For the first time ever, Hunk had missed dinner. Shiro had offered to take him a plate but, considering Hunk’s earlier behavior towards the black paladin, Allura had sent Keith instead, which was how he ended up outside Hunk’s door. He knocked once.

“It’s Keith.” There was a moment of shuffling and then the door slid open. Hunk was in his pajamas. “Sorry, had you gone to sleep? I brought you some food.”

“It’s fine,” Hunk said, “I just threw these on after I showered. Come on in.”

Keith realized he had never been in Hunk’s room. It was messy, cluttered with half-finished projects and souvenirs from missions. He found an empty corner on the desk and set down the plate. Hunk sighed as he sat on the bed and Keith pulled up the desk chair and sat down in front of him.

“I know this is probably a stupid question,” Keith said, “but are you okay? I mean, really?” Hunk looked down and shrugged.

“Not really. I just keep thinking about how I wasn’t there. I know… I know it wasn’t Shiro’s fault. It was the plan, and I know I probably couldn’t have stopped what happened, even if I was there, but—“

“You wish you could have changed it.”

“Even though I know I wouldn’t have been able to. I mean, Shiro and Allura are great fighters. If they couldn’t get to him…” They were both quiet. before Hunk looked up and whispered to Keith “We have to find him.”

“We will.”

“But what if they… what if they hurt him? What if they try and turn him into something terrible or torture him or—“

“Hey,” Keith said firmly, “Thinking about what could happen isn’t going to help you. Think about what will: we’ll find Lance and bring him back to us. That’s what’s important.” Hunk nodded and gave Keith a shaky smile. Keith laid a hand on Hunk’s shoulder and squeezed.

“Thanks, Keith.” Hunk said, reaching a hand up to squeeze Keith’s wrist.

“No problem, buddy.”

 

* * *

 

Lance was exhausted. Pain radiated out from the wound on his shoulder, and he was having trouble staying conscious. He couldn’t tell how long he had been alone in the room. Every time he closed his eyes, anywhere from minutes to hours passed.

His mind kept going back to the beaches near his grandparents’ house. His family would go back to Cuba for a month every summer. He would always miss Hunk and his neighborhood when he was gone, but there was nothing like being on the beach with his siblings. His grandmother would always challenge them at sandcastle building. Whoever’s castle had the most shells always seemed to win, so the afternoons would turn from building in the sand to digging for the biggest, shiniest shells they could find. Lance always tried extra hard to stand out. His oldest sister, once she started studying psychology, said was a sign of middle child syndrome, but Lance didn’t care, and he’d be damned if he ever lost a sand castle competition.

The door to his cell slid open to reveal the officer he had met before and two guards. Lance cracked an eye and looked at them. His hands clenched against his legs and he took a deep breath.

“Do you boys mind? I’m trying get some beauty sleep?” He was proud that he had been able to keep his voice from shaking. The officer narrowed his eyes at Lance stepped into the room, closely followed by the two guards.

The door slid closed. The Galra in charge stepped closer, and Lance tried not to feel intimidated, but he knew was helpless in his current situation. The guards had both of their guns aimed in his direction, and their bulk easily took up half the space in the room.

“I’ve seen this movie a few times.” Lance said. “This the part where we get to know each other, right?” The Galra smirked.

“And what would you like to know, paladin?”

“Which of Zarkon’s flying monkeys are you?” Lance asked, doing his best to keep his eyes open.

“I am General Haskoh. Grand Warden of this galaxy’s prisons. I would ask you your name, but it won’t matter—“

“Lance,” he said, looking up at Haskoh. Lance didn’t know how short of a fuse this guy had, but, judging from previous encounters with Galra, they were very used to structure and didn’t respond well to deviations from the norm. If Lance could throw this guy off, maybe he could shock him into revealing something—anything—Lance could use to his advantage.

“Do not interrupt me, paladin—“

“I just figured, if you weren’t going to ask, I should—“ The general lashed out, ramming a foot into Lance’s ribs. He leaned over, casting a shadow over Lance where he groaned on the floor.

“You do not seem to understand the position you’re in, paladin,” the General hissed, while Lance clutched his aching side. “You stay on this ship until I decide I am done with you, and I am not done with you until I know what I want about Voltron and the Castle of Lions. If you cooperate, you will be kept humanely until I hand you off. If you continue to behave quite so precociously, I will have to convince you in less enjoyable ways to tell me what I want to hear. Either way, I will get the information I want.” The general crouched in front of him, grabbed a tuft of his hair, and pulled Lance’s head off of the ground. “The only question is how hurt you will get in the process.” Haskoh said with a smirk, grabbing Lance’s jaw and pulling his face forward. “Now paladin.” Lance felt claws dig into his skin and his hands reflexively grabbed for Haskoh’s wrist. “Let’s get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave comments and kudos! let me know how I'm doing! I crave validation!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey loves!
> 
> This chapter is a bit of a mess. It moves weirdly, but it's already over 4,000 words and I don't want to add anything else just for propriety's sake.
> 
> Updated warnings in the tags. It's only getting worse. It'll do that for a while.  
> Lemme know if there are trigger/content warnings I should add!
> 
> xoxo  
> ~Tay

Lance's shoulder was on fire. Every time he moved or was moved, pain shot out from the wound like fireworks. When his first meal tray came, he used the water that came with it to rinse the wound a bit. It hurt like a bitch and he had to bite his sleeve to keep quiet, but anything was better than risking infection. He tore a part of his flight suit to use as a bandage, hoping to at least cover and protect the wound. Of all the terrible fates that could await him, dying of an infection like a gangrenous foot soldier seemed exceptionally unpleasant.

But Lance tried not to think about his dying. Allura and the others would come get him. There was no way they would just leave him here. All he had to do was survive until they got to him. Unfortunately, General Haskoh didn’t seem keen on allowing that to happen.

Their visit from the night before had not gone to the general’s liking. Lance had refused to answer any of Haskoh’s questions. He had responded to each with some joke or insult and the general had grown more and more irate before storming from the room, promising that Lance would reconsider his behavior in due time. While Lance knew that antagonizing Haskoh would ultimately work against him, it was buying him time. If he waited long enough, the others would save him. He would stall for as long as he needed to.

The door slid open and Haskoh came in, again followed by two guards.

“Couldn’t stay away?” Lance said plainly. Haskoh frowned, and Lance felt a shiver run down his back. It was possible, if not likely, that jokes had bought him all the time they could. Haskoh snapped his fingers and the guards lowered their guns, before moving towards Lance. One of the guards grabbed him by the shoulders and hoisted him up. He bit his tongue to keep from groaning as his injured shoulder was wrenched upwards. The other produced two pairs of cuffs, jerkin Lance’s arms forwards and cinching the cuffs around his wrists and ankles. Lance swallowed and looked at Haskoh, who seemed to be grinning.

“Today is for answers, paladin.” Haskoh pressed his hand to a panel on the wall and a series of buttons appeared. He pressed one and a hook dropped down from the ceiling. The guards raised Lance’s joined wrists, and threw the links in the cuffs over the hook. Lance couldn’t help the scream he let out as his body was forced upwards, but then he hung there, panting and glaring at Haskoh. “Where is the castle of Lions?” Haskoh said sternly.

“Why don’t you ask your mom? She’s been spending nights there.” Lance growled. For a moment, Haskoh was still. Then, before he even saw the Galra move, electricity was coursing through Lance's body, burning away from a spot on his thigh. Lance screamed, flinching away from the contact, when suddenly it stopped. He heaved a breath and opened his eyes to Haskoh holding a silver staff, maybe a yard long.

“Maybe you forgot how this works,” Haskoh snarled. “I will ask a question and you will answer it correctly. If you do not give me the answer I want, I will punish you, and the punishments will only get harsher.” Haskoh rolled the baton in his hand then traced it menacingly against Lance’s side. “Now, tell me. Where is the Castle of Lions hiding?”

“Up your ass and around the corner.” Lance had barely finished before the electricity was back, starting in his stomach and racing through his body.

Lance didn’t know how long this continued. Haskoh asked questions about the castle, the lions, their technology, even questions about Allura. Every time, Lance would answer him with snide comments and, every time, Haskoh pressed the electrified silver to his body, sometimes for mere seconds, but sometimes for what felt like minutes, until Lance’s head was spinning and he was too tired to curve his body away from the ever changing points of contact. During one of the shocks, Lance bit his tongue and the cloying taste of blood welled in his mouth. Haskoh asked about Lance’s bayard and Lance spat a glob of saliva and blood into the Galra’s face. Haskoh looked stunned, and then he looked enraged. He pressed the prod into Lance’s chest and, when Lance woke up, he was hanging alone in his cell.

 

* * *

 

Keith was in the training room, where he had been for much of the last week. No matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to work through his anger about Lance. He knew it was no one’s fault, and he knew it was only a matter of time until they figured out a way to find Lance, but there was always an itch beneath his skin. Everyone had been on edge since Lance was taken, but this seemed different. He had been snapping at everyone and, even though they knew he didn’t mean it, he never knew where it came from. Shiro said he was just having trouble showing his concern. Keith had never been good at emotions, but it had never _burned_ like this. So he took to isolating himself in the training room until Shiro sent for him, and sometimes even longer.

Hunk was also distant. Allura, Pidge, and Coran spent most of their time in the last few days re-analyzing the data Pidge had stolen from the last Galra facility, but there was never much to be found in what little data the hacks always brought. Hunk sometimes went to help them, but usually ended up in the lab, creating upgrades for the lions. Once, Keith swung by the blue lion’s hangar on a whim and found Hunk, talking to the lion. Her shields were up, which was strange since they were inside the castle. When Hunk had asked, Allura said it was because Blue’s paladin wasn’t present, and the conversation was quickly dropped.

The night after Lance was taken, the group argued late into the night about returning to the facility where he was taken. Keith and Hunk wanted to go as soon as possible, but Allura and Shiro were scared that it would only result in greater damage to the team. Without Lance, they couldn’t form Voltron, and they had no way of knowing what was waiting for them in the galaxy where they had lost him.

_“When we were last there, there was an entire fleet on the way. It would be foolish to willingly take on hundreds of Galra when Voltron is compromised,” Allura said. “You’re letting your emotions get ahead of you.”_

_“But if Lance is there—“_

_“If, Keith. Hyperspace works the same for the Galra too. They could have taken him anywhere by now,” Shiro sighed._

_“And every second we waste is another opportunity they have to take him even farther away from us!”_

Keith had left the feud with a raging temper and a splitting headache. He’d even snapped at Shiro when the older paladin had come to the training room to try and talk some sense into him. Everyone had gone to bed that night frustrated and tired, yet unable to sleep.

On the third night of Lance’s absence, Hunk, Keith, and, surprisingly, Shiro had all skipped dinner. An enraged Pidge had hunted Keith down in the training room. _‘If we can’t even be there for each other, how are we supposed to be there for Lance!_ ’ she’d yelled. It was the first time he had seen Pidge truly angry at any of them, and it was vaguely terrifying. ’ _Now you better be showered and at the table in ten minutes, or I’ll hack this room to kick your ass the next time you so much as breathe in it.’_ When he showed up at dinner, Hunk and Shiro were there, looking dutifully ashamed, and that was the last time any of them had missed a meal.

Two nights later, they were all in the kitchen, Hunk setting the table while Coran finished preparing the food. Keith sat in his seat and did his best not to look at the empty spot across from him. Halfway through the meal, Coran addressed them as a group.

“Preliminary scans of the galaxy where Lance was last seen, show no Galra ships in motion. Judging from what I’ve been told, the Galra Allura saw, who took Lance, may have been a galaxy warden. If he is assigned to that sector, and the castle has found no ships moving in and out of the area, it is possible, though unlikely, that Lance is still in the area.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Keith said, hands gripping the table.

“We only theorized this yesterday,” Pidge said. “And one day of watching ships isn’t conclusive evidence. They could easily have moved him somewhere else. We warp across galaxies in moments—“

“That’s not a reason to give up—“

“Keith.” Pidge looked over at him. “If they haven’t moved him, they’re waiting for us, and we can’t even form Voltron.”

“Then we do it without Voltron. We have the lions, and we have a friend who needs us.” Keith could hear his heart racing, the blood rushing past his ears.

“We can’t help Lance if we’re hurt or captured—“

“Lance is hurt and captured, Pidge.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“No, you just don’t seem to be bringing what Lance may need into this. The fact that it’s taken this long for us to even get close to a plan is ridiculous, and now we aren’t going to do anything?”

“Well at least I did something,” Pidge snapped, slamming a hand on the table. “I spent three days working through an ounce of data and I got us a starting point. You’ve just been punching through robots and yelling at anything that moves—“

“That’s enough you two!” Allura yelled, pushing away from her chair. Pidge and Keith were on their feet, both of them fuming. “I want you both to take a step back and calm down. We all want to find Lance, but fighting like this is helping no one.” Pidge looked down, and slowly retook her seat.

“Keith. Step away,” Shiro said. But Keith’s heart was still racing. He kept trying to take calming breaths, but the air only seemed to make him dizzy, burning down his throat. “Keith?” Shiro’s voice had lost its stern, official tone. It was now concerned. The red paladin shook his head, trying to clear away the fog that had settled behind his eyes. He groaned and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. His head was spinning.

Keith vaguely registered the others calling his name, but he was already stumbling from the room, clutching his pounding head. Shiro watched, confused, as Keith staggered out of the kitchen; that confusion doubled when Allura bolted after him.

Allura found Keith in the hallway outside his room, upright, but sweating profusely as he struggled towards his bedroom. She pulled his arm over her shoulder and he immediately let her take his weight.

“A-Allura? What’s happening to me?” Keith groaned.

“It’s— I am not sure. I'll have to run some tests.” Keith nodded weakly and Allura led him to the med bay, practically carrying him.

Within minutes, the other paladins had found their way down to the med bay. Keith was writhing on the bed, beads of sweat forming on his face as his skin flushed darkly. Shiro looked on with a pained expression.

“Allura, what’s wrong with him? I-is he sick?” Allura and Coran were bustling back and forth across the med bay, moving vials, several of which were filled with Keith’s blood, and tubes into various formations.

“I don’t have any real answers yet.” Allura huffed, frustrated. “For now, I have sedated Keith while Coran and I run more tests. However, if my hunch is correct, then this is something Keith and I will need time and privacy to discuss.” Shiro looked stricken, his eyes, impossibly, more worried, before he took a breath and nodded. Pidge and Hunk looked ready to argue, and Allura’s heart ached for them. It seemed that every day their haphazard little family was splintering apart.

“If that’s what you need, princess,” Shiro said as he took Hunk and Pidge gently by the shoulders and led them from the room. The doors slid shut and Allura was ushered into the tense quiet of beeping monitors and Keith’s slowly hitching breaths as the sedatives took their hold. She looked down at him, and the truth of his youth seemed to hit her all at once. She wasn’t blind. She knew how hard each day had been for her paladins. She had found Lance asleep in front of the star maps enough times to know he was homesick. Coran once glanced Pidge and Shiro in the kitchens in the middle of the night, the younger crying into Shiro’s shoulder while he rubbed circles into her back. There were mornings where Hunk visibly hadn’t slept a wink, and Keith worked himself to exhaustion in the training room whenever Shiro let him. They were struggling. Quietly. Privately. But struggling none the less.

She worked quietly and quickly, but slowly stuttered to a stop, looking down at Keith on the bed. Coran walked up behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder.

“Princess, I know you are trying to do right by the others but… Delaying the inevitable is not something that will help us—“

“One of the tests was inconclusive—“

“But four others told us what we already know.” They were quiet. Behind them, one of the DNA tests whirred to a stop. Neither of them moved to get it.

“It just seems like so much for him. They are all so young,” Allura whispered.

“So are you.” Coran’s hand squeezed her shoulder gently

“Not really,” Allura said with a wry smile. “I’m over ten thousand years old, after all.”

 

* * *

 

Lance couldn’t remember the last time he had slept. Really, truly, slept. He decided that falling unconscious after General Haskoh or one of his goons hit him too hard, or shocked him too long, or held a hand around his throat for a moment too much, didn’t count. Whenever he woke up, he took a catalog of his aches and pains. His shoulder didn’t seem to bother him as much anymore, but he couldn’t tell if that was because it was starting to heal, or because he had other wounds to distract from it. The Galra had cut him out of the top of his flight suit, leaving only his legs covered. His chest and back were littered with cuts and bruises, and there was a burn on his back, above his right hip, from Haskoh holding the electric staff to his bare skin for minutes straight. The smell of burnt flesh had filled the room and, if Lance hadn’t been so busy screaming himself unconscious, the scent would have pulled what little food he had eaten up and out of him.

Haskoh made sure to keep Lance fed and watered, and was careful of Lance’s head and spine. Lance knew they wanted him alive and, to a certain extent, well. It was a strange relief. He knew he wasn’t going to die in a Galra prison. At least not anytime soon.

Lance had lost any sense of time. He thought this was purposeful. Haskoh didn’t seem to have a schedule to his vicious interrogations. Once Lance was conscious for more than twenty minutes, someone came in and fed him, watered him, had him relieve himself into some alien device that made it disappear, and then left him to wait.

The waiting was the worst part. Sometimes, Haskoh would be in the room before Lance’s keeper had even left. Other times, Haskoh would take long minutes, maybe even hours, and Lance would lay or hang in the room just stewing. He tried to keep his mind blank, but it would inevitably stray to the people and places he missed.

He thought of running through the neighborhood with Hunk and cooking with his mom and sisters. He thought of his dorm at the Garrison and the first time Pidge had laughed at one of his space puns. He thought of the day his mom brought the twins home, so tiny in their pink and blue blankets, and how he'd cried so hard his dad had taken him into the master bedroom and asked Lance why he didn’t like the babies. _“They’re j-just so l-l-little”_ Lance had wailed, sobbing into his eight year old hands. His dad had laughed himself silly and then nodded. _“Yes, Lance. They are very little. But they’re gonna grow big and strong and you get to help. Won’t that be fun?”_ That was how Lance had turned into the same overprotective older sibling that his big sisters had been for him.

He tried not to think of the castle. Whenever he did, he thought of Pidge, whose family was still in danger, and Shiro who, even though he had escaped the Galra, had to carry a part of them with him for the rest of his life. He tried especially hard not to think of Keith. They had only just started their friendship, and it had been going great. The red paladin was as quippy as Pidge when he wanted to be, and even though he was quieter than the other paladins, he was an enthusiastic listener. He and Hunk had regaled Keith with stories from when they were younger. Sometimes Pidge would join in and talk about starting trouble at the Garrison. Keith was less open with information, but would talk a bit about hunts in the desert and his early searches for, unknowingly, the blue lion. Being around Keith was nice. It wasn’t quite as comfortable as being near Hunk, or as exciting as hanging out with Pidge, but it was definitely nice.

Lance tried not to think of them without him. He told himself they would come for him. They would break him out and he would be reunited with Blue and everything would be fine. He just had to give them time to find him. They wouldn’t leave him.

He refrained from looking up from where he was curled on the floor. He hadn’t moved from where Haskoh’s men had left him on the floor. He hadn’t been able to, but he chose to ignore that. Sometime he pretended to still be unconscious, and he could sneak naps. They were fitful snatches of sleep, never nearly enough, but they helped to settle his rapidly fraying nerves.

All too soon, he was awoken by a guard, roughly pulling him upwards. They did their routine of prisoner maintenance and then he was left alone.

It was time to wait. Wait for Haskoh. Wait for rescue. Wait for the pain to put him back to sleep. He let himself doze off, partly wishing he wouldn’t have to wake up.

 

* * *

 

Shiro was pacing. He, Hunk, and Pidge were in the common room. It had been hours since Allura had sent them away from the medical bay, and the waiting was wearing on them. Hunk was rambling nervously.

“It can’t be that bad. He’s not in a pod, so he isn’t hurt or seriously ill. Allura would tell us if he were in danger. Maybe it’s an Altean sickness? Something she’s seen before, and it’s gonna get gross?”

“It could be some Altean rash? Keith’s skin was really flushed. And maybe we just aren’t immune?” Pidge piped up from where she sat, typing furiously on her computer.

“That’s probably it, Pidge,” Hunk said, overly cheerful. “If Keith caught something, even after the vaccines Coran gave us, she probably doesn’t want to risk us being around him until she knows why or how. Shiro, what do you think?” Hunk turned to the older paladin, who had been circling the curved couch in the common room since they had arrived. “Allura just doesn’t want us to catch whatever space virus Keith has.” Shiro looked at his two paladins and gave them a shaky smile

“Yeah… A space virus,” he managed, before returning to his trek. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong. Keith had been off all week. He’d been moody and aggressive and was always flushed. Shiro had tried to pull Keith out of the training room whenever possible, but he had always resisted. Once, Shiro had gone to stop the red paladin only to find him battling four training droids with his bare hands, his bayard cast aside. Keith had punched his fist into one of the droid’s chests and carried on seemingly without noticing. Those droids had taken many a beating, but he’d never see one so much as crack before then. Now, Keith was punching right into them.

Before he knew it, his feet were leading him through the halls. He heard Hunk and Pidge calling him but didn’t stop until he was outside of the med bay. It had been hours. Surely, with all of her science, Allura would know something by now. If not, then he could offer to help. Anything to stop the waiting. He heard Pidge and Hunk run up behind him.

“Shiro, we aren’t supposed to be here.” Pidge said between breaths. “Allura wants time with Keith, and he’s probably still sedated.”

“Yeah,” Hunk agreed, laying a hand on Shiro’s shoulder. “We should all go upstairs. No one really finished dinner. I can make us somethi—“

Suddenly, there was an anguished scream from the med bay and a clatter. Shiro was running into the room before he remembered moving. Allura wast trying to hold down a writhing Keith while Coran was searching through one of the cupboards. The two were yelling rapidly in Altean while Keith struggled against Allura’s grip.

“Allura, what’s going on?” Shiro demanded. She looked over at him, stunned. Keith nearly arched out of her slackened grip and she returned her focus to him.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” She ground out.

“Let us help.” Pidge yelled, rushing forward. She hovered by Shiro’s elbow, uncertainty radiating off of her “Keith is our friend. Our responsibility. Isn’t there—I mean, there has to be something we could do—“

“You shouldn’t be here for this.” Allura hissed. She looked exhausted. her hair was tumbling out of its bun and her forehead was beaded with sweat. Coran said something in Altean as he came over with a prepped syringe. Allura responded and Shiro watched as the two seemed to argue in Altean while simultaneously working on Keith, who slowly calmed down on the table. Finally, Coran snapped something at Allura. She looked shocked, but nodded slowly. She turned to the three paladins in the room and hung her head.

“I apologize for dismissing you all earlier. Though I believe it was the right thing to do, I understand how that hurt you, and I’m sorry.”

“We understand,” Pidge said after a moment. “We just… It’s hard. Not knowing.” Allura nodded and looked behind her to Keith, who Coran was strapping to the bed.

“Why— What’s going on? What’s wrong with him?” Shiro asked quietly.

“Keith is… going through a transformation. His genetic makeup has somehow been changed—I’m not sure how, but it is indeed possible—and now his body is changing itself to follow the new instructions implanted in its DNA. Unfortunately, it seems that the process is causing him a great deal of pain. We… are trying to avoid putting him into a healing pod, as I’m not sure if the pod will aid or reject the internal changes occurring, but that means we have to keep him sedated. His body is burning through the medicine quickly, so Coran is going to set up a drip in attempt to keep him asleep. From there, we’ll just have to watch and wait.” By the end of her spiel, everyone was looking at Keith, sweating on the bed.

“A-allura?” Hunk said. “You said you don’t know why Keith is changing; but do you know what he’s changing into?” Allura felt Pidge and Hunk watching her. Shiro’s eyes were trained on Keith. She looked at Coran and he met her eyes. He nodded once and she turned to face the others.

“Keith’s DNA shows that he is part Galra. His body is changing to reflect that.” There was a long moment of just the monitors beeping before Shiro turned and left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me what you think! I crave validation!
> 
> also
> 
> Haskoh's a dick.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy loves! 
> 
> Long note ahead:
> 
> Firstly: 1000 HITS HOLY CRAP!!!! Thank y'all so much TT.TT  
> Never in my wildest or weirdest dream, babes. 1000 hits.
> 
> We're back from last week's hiatus! Chapter 6 put us halfway through Act I. I'll probably take another break after chapter 12 (the end of act I). I updated the chapter outlook, because the full piece should be about 24 chapters. 
> 
> Please heed updated tags. This is also a reminder about the tags for torture and medical situations. Let me know about tw/cw things.
> 
> If anyone would like me to tag this for graphic depictions of violence, please let me know.
> 
> If you missed it, Saturday is he new official update day, and I have tumblr dedicated mostly to voltron (but also sort of to miraculous ladybug if you like that <3)
> 
> I'm trying to respond to every comment, so let me know what you think!
> 
> Anywho, here's the piece!
> 
> hugs from space,  
> ~Tay
> 
> Update: links to relevant outtakes are now embedded within the chapter!

Lance’s head was pounding. He was hanging from the hook in his cell and, somewhere nearby, General Haskoh was yelling at him, but he couldn’t find the energy to be concerned with the imminent shock or beating. The pain in his shoulder had only gotten worse over time and now he thought he could smell the wound. If he had an infection, it would only be a matter of time before it overcame him. Already, he could feel the beginnings of a fever beneath his skin.

He registered another hit from the flogger, the barbs slicing against his back. His head rolled backwards and his eyes fluttered shut. The room went still. Haskoh pulled his wrists off the hook and let him fall to the ground. He whimpered as he impacted the floor, but was otherwise silent.

“He’s useless like this!” Haskoh yelled. The general pressed a button in one of the hidden wall consoles and called a team of healers. Within minutes, two more galra were in the room leaning over Lance, who was too exhausted to even flinch as they maneuvered him. “I need him functional for this to work. Fix him!” Haskoh growled, stalking out of the room.

A day and a half later, Lance emerged, rested but woozy, from a healing pod. He was wearing a Galra prisoner uniform and his aches were almost entirely gone. It was the closest he’d felt to capable his entire time on board the ship. He was suddenly excited. All he needed was a meal or two and then he could consider trying to escape. Sure, he wasn’t in fighting shape, but he would have to do his best.

He let them transfer him back to his cell, studying the layout of the hallways he traveled through, and when he returned to his cell, he laid down and tried to think. Even though he was healthier, his body was tired. He would wait for food, and then he would plan.

[But the food never came.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10127975) His usual guard came, and they brought a small amount of water, but there was no food. Next time, then. He laid, dizzy, in his cell and waited.

 

* * *

 

Keith spent five whole days in the medical bay. After his initial panic, Shiro came and sat with the red paladin, barely leaving his side. He watched as Keith whimpered in his chemically induced sleep. He was always feverish and sweating, and the others were hard pressed to keep him hydrated as he worked through his transformation.

Pidge and Allura had run every test they could think of while looking for a catalyst, a reason, anything that would explain either how the Galra DNA had made its way into Keith’s system or why it was suddenly surfacing. They thought it had to be something, or someone, he had encountered while they were split up because of the wormhole. Keith had been tight lipped, saying nothing extraordinary had happened, despite the damage both he and his lion had sustained. Shiro hadn’t believed him, but understood the need to keep certain things to yourself, and had refrained from pestering him. However, considering the changes happening before his eyes, he wanted to revisit the short gap in Keith’s history. Hopefully they would find an answer somewhere.

By the end of Keith’s second day in the med bay, his skin was completely purple. The pigmentation wasn’t as dark as that of most of the Galra they had encountered, in fact, it was barely noticeable at times, but, when visible, it was still distinctly alien and distinctly Galra. By the second day, they had to strip him of his usual clothes and put him into a healing suit, since, according to Allura, his muscles were changing and she didn’t want to risk his clothes placing any strain on his body.

On the morning of the third day, Shiro was startled awake by Keith groaning. The red paladin was thrashing in his sleep and shaking his head from side to side. Shiro called Allura, who increased the dosage for the sedative and added another dose of painkillers. When Keith finally stilled, Shiro ran a hand through his dark purple hair and discovered that his ears had begun to point.

“It looks like this may all be over soon,” Allura said on the fifth day, reading a scan of Keith’s body. “All of his readings are stable and his temperature is beginning to drop. I may put him in a healing pod to help him see this out. That will soothe his pains and help him get some actual rest.” She looked over her shoulder at Shiro, who was staring blankly at Keith. She wasn’t sure if he had heard or registered any of what she had said, but when she moved to the bed and began undoing Keith’s restraints, Shiro followed suit without prompting. Soon, they were looking up at Keith, breathing slowly inside of a healing pod. Allura looked at Shiro, whose tired eyes were tight with stress.

“I can not imagine how hard this must be for you,” she said quietly. Shiro flinched, the lines on his face tightening momentarily before he gave her a sad look. He just nodded and returned his gaze to the boy in the pod. “He will likely be in here a few hours. I will stay with him. You should go rest, or at least shower. He is going to be stressed enough without feeling like he has disrupted the team.” Shiro sighed and nodded.

“Thank you, princess,” he said quietly. He left slowly, seeming to crumple inwards as he walked away.

When Shiro got to his room, he sunk down onto the bed and hung his head in his hands. He didn’t know which had been harder: watching Keith in pain or watching Keith turn into the very thing that had caused him so much pain. The Galra had taken a year of his life when they interrupted the Kerberos mission, and were still stealing time from the Holts. Now, somehow, they had taken one of his best friends. Shiro stripped and headed for the shower. He dutifully avoided the mirror in the bathroom. Today didn’t seem like a day for re-examining his scars. He knew them already.

Shiro returned to the med bay and found Pidge and Allura both on their respective tablets.

“I guess we’re all just waiting?” Shiro said quietly, taking a seat on one of the beds.

“Hunk is helping Coran prepare some food. He’ll be down soon for when Keith comes out of the pod,” Pidge said without looking up. “We figure he’ll need a lot to eat after nothing but IV fluids for so long. Especially with all the stress his body has been under.”

“How much longer do we think he’ll take?” Shiro asked. Pidge looked over at the pod.

“I don’t know. According to the pod he’s only twenty minutes from stable, but he could be in longer. It really depends on Keith.”

“You should relax, Shiro,” Allura said quietly. “Us being so tense while receiving him will only cause him more stress. We have to show Keith that we will still support him no matter what.” Pidge and Shiro both looked from her to Keith, floating purple in the healing pod.

“Princess?” Pidge said quietly, looking down at her tablet.

“Yes, Pidge?”

“Are you… I mean— I don’t know how… How are you so sure that everything will be okay? I mean, Voltron is falling apart. Keith is part Galra, Lance is missing, and the rest of us are just sorta scrambling for the pieces.” Pidge’s voice was shaking and her eyes were wet. “I know we need to be strong for one another but I don’t know how.” Allura was quiet for a moment.

“No one starts knowing how. I learned from my parents. My father and mother were fighting in a war for the better half of my youth. Coran can attest to the difficulty that it was and, as a princess, I always had to try and be strong for those around me, even if I didn’t feel I had any strength to give. You have to convince yourself that something will go right. And after that, maybe something else, and something else.” She looked at Keith in the pod. “Right now, Keith is part Galra, which feels wrong, but we were able to help him through this and, even though he may not be emotionally okay with this change when he comes out of the pod, he is healthy and he is safe. That is something right. He has us here to support him. That is something right.” Pidge was sniffling to herself, dabbing her eyes on her sleeves.

“You know, you’re really good at this ‘wise space princess’ thing,” she said with a watery smile.

“Well, the five of you are very easy to have faith in.” Allura looked back at Shiro, who was watching them with a sad smile. Pidge gathered up her tablet and went to join the black paladin on the hospital bed. She plastered herself to his side, leaning on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around her. Allura smiled, and moved to sit on Shiro’s other side, laying a hand on his knee. That was how Hunk found them, before joining them on the bed, leaning against Pidge’s other side. They would face what came together.

 

* * *

 

General Haskoh was frustrated with the paladin. No matter what they did to him, the boy refused to speak of Voltron, the paladins who piloted it, or the castle where they stayed. He had lost almost two days because the boy’s wound had begun to fester, and he’d needed time with the healers before Haskoh could return to work, but when he had returned, the boy was well. He was stronger and no longer stank of fear and stress. That wouldn’t do. So Haskoh cut off his food and reduced his water. While starving the boy had once again made him weak, he was also irritable and depressed. When they returned him to rations he had refused to eat altogether. They’d had to force feed him for two days before he would eat on his own, and throughout it all he refused to speak. The only thing that seemed to be working in Haskoh’s favor was the amount of time that had passed. It had been more than two weeks without so much as a whisper from the remaining Voltron paladins. With every passing day, the paladin seemed more nervous, more scared. Perhaps he was losing hope of being rescued. Either way, Haskoh was running out of time.

When he walked into the paladin’s cell, the boy was hanging from his restraints. Two guards stood in the corners. The paladin said nothing, but glared as viciously as he could with one of his eyes nearly swollen shut.

“Tell me about the rebellion force from Dalthracx. Where are they hiding?” The boy sighed.

“I told you already. I don’t know—“

One of the guards zapped the paladin with the energy stick and he screamed.

“Tell me the truth,” Haskoh yelled. The paladin hung, panting, for a moment before looking up at him.

“I don’t know about any rebellions, but even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you,” the paladin snarled.

Haskoh nodded to a guard, who struck the boy with the barbed flogger.

“I don’t have time for your heroics.” Haskoh growled. Haskoh reached forward and took the boy by the jaw. “Come now, paladin,” He purred, stroking a clawed thumb along Lance’s pulse point, “who are you even protecting? Your friends have forgotten you. Not once have we heard from them, or even seen them in this galaxy. They recognize the weakness in you, and their strength without you.” The paladin flinched and Haskoh smirked. “Tell me what you know, and the pain will end. You could even get revenge on those who have left you behind. Because they have most certainly left you behind. There is no misunderstanding it.” The paladin made a pained noise, but tried to pull his head out of Haskoh’s reach.

“You’re a sick bastard,” he growled, trying to wriggle away.

Haskoh snarled and stepped in close, re-establishing his grip on the paladin’s face and pressing a claw into his cheek. He watched as blood slowly welled out of the wound. “You will tell me what you know,” he whispered, “If you won’t do so willingly, I will have a druid force it from you. And if you truly are as useless as you claim, I will kill you, slowly, and send your body to the druids for them to do whatever they please with!” Haskoh stepped back and watched blood slowly trickle out from the small cut and down the boy's ashen face.

“Now let’s try this again.”

 

* * *

 

The healing pod slid open and Keith stumbled out, into Allura’s arms. He clutched at her shoulders as he tried to find his footing. His entire body felt wrong and he groaned as he felt how sore his muscles were. Allura was murmuring to him, gentle soothing words to remind him that he was okay. He opened his eyes but shut them quickly, the bright lights of the medical bay stinging into his head.

“Of course. Coran, dim the lights.” He heard Coran rush to the wall. “Your eyes are a bit more sensitive to light now. Take your time and adjust.” He spent what felt like a full minute blinking, slowly opening and closing his eyes until he could look into the room without it hurting. When he finally opened his eyes, he found everyone looking at him. Shiro looked tense. Pidge was worrying her lip, and Hunk kept opening and closing his mouth as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

“What happened to me?” Keith asked, finally drawing himself up out of Allura’s grip. No one spoke and he tried to smile against the tension in the room.

“Keith. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to explain your situation beforehand, and I understand that you will need time to figure this out,” Allura said, stepping slowly away and taking a silver disc from Pidge. “We still do not know what caused this, or what triggered your transformation, but,” she took a breath and began to raise the disc. “Keith, you are part Galra.” The disc came before him and, reflected in it was himself, but not. His eyes glowed yellow and his ears were huge and pointed. He raised a hand, which was now clawed, and touched his hair, the black of which had lightened into a familiar purple. His mouth fell open in horror and he saw that his incisors had grown into fangs. He snapped his mouth closed and looked around the disc towards his team.

They were watching him. He could practically—no, _actually_ — smell the stress coming from them. Hunk’s eyes were tight, but he didn’t seem afraid of him. He looked at Pidge who, while definitely worried, seemed relaxed compared to—

Shiro’s eyes were flitting about his body. The moved from his hands to his hair, his ears, his mouth, and then finally, his eyes. The pair made eye contact and nothing could have prepared the younger paladin for the moment their eyes met. From the time he was little, Shiro had been something stable, something warm, in his life. The older paladin had been his best friend for years and he had always found a level of comfort in his eyes. [Now, the older paladin looked at him and just seemed devastated.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10360806)

“Sh-Shiro,” Keith croaked. Suddenly, Keith was bolting from the room, moving as fast as his shaking legs would carry him. He heard Shiro call after him, followed by Allura’s voice.

“Let him go. You both need time.”

Keith ran all the way to his room and locked himself in. He made his way to the bathroom and stripped out of his healing suit, looking himself over. He ran his hands over his body, watching in the mirror as if to make sure what he felt was real. He ran his fingers over the purple skin of his face. He touched his ears, surprised when they involuntarily twitched away from his clawed fingers. He opened his mouth to look at his teeth, but startled backwards. The fangs turned the small movement into a snarl, and he clamped his hands over his mouth, as if trying to keep the evil in.

He met his yellow eyes in the mirror. The realization hit suddenly, but no less painfully. He looked evil. He looked like the very thing they were fighting so desperately against. The thing that had taken Shiro and the Holts from Kerberos, the thing that, even now, was imprisoning Lance.

How could any of them trust him? He didn’t know what to make of himself, much less what the others would think— then again they must have had time to think about this. They had all seemed prepared for him. They probably already had a plan made. Were they going to kick him out Voltron? He didn’t know where he would go. Then again, he had lived on his own before; he could do it again. There had be the occasional Galra defector on some of the refugee planets. They weren’t exactly included, but they had been left in peace. At the very least, he could live out his days there.

Keith collapsed onto the bed, his mind spinning with thoughts of life alone. He didn’t know how long he laid there, curled in on himself, before he heard Hunk approach the room and knock.

“Keith? Buddy, you awake?” Keith held his breath, waiting for Hunk to leave. “I don’t know if you’re asleep or… or ignoring me, but I’m gonna say this in case it’s the latter. We know you’re freaking out. It’s a little unfair that we had more time to prepare for this than you, but we promise everything is okay. I mean everything isn't _okay_ , but we’ll get there. We were really worried. You were in a lot of pain and… I’ve never seen Shiro like that. He barely left the med bay. Well, you probably know better than all of us what a dad he can be. Anyways, whatever you’re in there worrying about, we’ll figure it out. That’s what friends do.” Hunk paused for a while, and then sighed. Keith heard the click of a plate hitting the ground. “There’s food out here for you, and then there’s a lot more in the kitchen. Coran and I went a little overboard tonight.”

And with that, Hunk walked away. It was a few minutes before Keith went and retrieved the food. It was all of his favorites, stacked onto one heaping plate. When he finished the food, he set the plate back outside and fell into bed. He fell into a fitful sleep.

 

* * *

 

Lance was awoken by a foot to his back. He groaned and rolled towards the source, looking up and into the barrel of a gun, pointed at him by an unnamed Galra. He managed not to flinch and then turned his eyes to the guard.

“I assume this isn’t a courtesy call,” he said, steeling his gaze.

“Up,” the Galra grunted. Lance flinched at the growl, but stayed where he was.

“Why,” he said, looking out the open door. There were two more Galra standing in the hall, weapons trained on him. He looked back at the guard in the room, who frowned at him, saying nothing. It cocked it’s weapon and stared down the barrel at him. Lance struggled slowly to his feet and the Galra stepped back. The bruised muscles of his legs screamed in protest and he sagged backwards against the wall. The scabs on his back didn’t seem too happy about the contact with the wall, but he tried to ignore that. “Now what? I’m standing.” He said to the Galra. The guard turned its attention to the two outside and, the next thing Lance knew, the two Galra from outside the room were coming in and seizing him by the arms.

They cuffed him and pulled him out of the room and into the hall. He pulled his weight backwards, pressing his heels into the ground.

“Is anyone going to say where we’re going? Or why?” He tried and failed to keep the panic out of his voice. Had Haskoh finally had enough of him? Was he being transferred? Or worse? “I love surprises as much as the next guy, but this doesn’t seem like something I’ll enjoy.” He pulled himself backwards, almost freeing himself from the guards’ grip, but the third guard shoved the barrel of his gun into Lance’s back, telling him that he wasn’t going anywhere. “There better be some beautifully romantic gesture coming up, not that you boys are my type, but I think I deserve one by now.” One of the guards growled at him. “ At least roses,” Lance muttered. The guard behind him jabbed its gun into his back again, and he shut up. Lance’s eyes flicked along the walls, trying to memorize what he was seeing. He didn’t know if it would do him any good—the route would only take him back to the cell— but the devil you know is always better than the death that seems to await you.

They turned another corner and passed through a set of automatic doors. This part of the ship was brighter, almost clinically so. He flinched against the light and was jerked forwards. They passed more Galra, all of whom eyed him with a sick sort of hunger. He began to pray quietly to himself.

“ _Dios te salve, María. Llena eres de gracia—_ “ They entered an elevator that took them upwards through the ship. They came out in a windowed hallway, and he watched as unknown snatches up space slid by. “ _— El Señor es contigo. Bendita tú eres entre todas las mujeres._ ” He wondered if the others were somewhere in space, looking for him. He’d left them his bayard, and Blue was safe. Thinking practically, the others were completely fine. “ _Y bendito es el fruto de tu vientre: Jesús._ ” He had done his best to protect them. He hadn’t answered any of Haskoh’s questions. If he was to die, he would go knowing he had done what he could for his friends. “ _Santa María, Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros pecadores, ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte_.” He looked out the windows, finding the stars calming in their flickerless gaze. When Lance tore his gaze from the windows, he saw General Haskoh, standing outside of a door at the end of the corridor. The general was frowning deeply. " _En el nombre del Padre, y del Hijo, y del Espíritu Santo. Amen_ ”

“All these dramatics for little ol’ me?” Lance said coyly as they approached Haskoh, stopping inf front of him. “Really, sweetheart, you shouldn’t have--" Haskoh reached out and struck Lance across the face. He sagged in the arms of his guards, oddly grateful for their supporting arms.

“This will teach you what happens to those who are quite so proud,” The general spat, turning and opening the door. Lance was led into a room, empty save a chair. The guards placed him in the chair and restrained his wrists and ankles, cuffing them to the chair.

“Kinky, but I don’t think this is first date stuff,” Lance said with a sneer. If he was going down, he would take with him what bits of Haskoh’s sanity that he could. Surprisingly, the general did nothing. He turned and left, and the three guards followed him.

For a terrifying minute, Lance was completely alone in the room. There was still fear-fueled adrenaline coursing through his aching body, and his mind was racing. He focused on his breathing, and tried not to think of the aches in his ribs that came with each deep breath. Before long, he heard the door open somewhere behind him. His hair stood on end and he barely heard something ghosting his direction. His heartbeat was the loudest thing in the room as he felt the thing come up behind him. An ice cold hand snuck into his too-long hair and yanked his head back.

He looked up and into the blank hood of a druid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on [tumblr](https://profoundprincessface.tumblr.com/) and you can yell at me!
> 
> profoundprincessface.tumblr.com!
> 
> The Lance outtake from this chapter can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10127975/)!
> 
> The Shiro outtake from this chapter can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10360806/)!
> 
> Also, the Spanish in the piece is the Hail Mary.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi loves!
> 
> Actual new chapter for this week! 
> 
> You've probably noticed that this is now a part of a series!  
>  _A series? But Tay, how can you be writing more for this? the fic isn't even done?_  
>  I'll live my trash life how i damn well please.  
> And extra angst pleases me _damn well_.
> 
> Go check out [ The Starvation Days](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10127975)!  
> It's an outtake from chapter seven. 
> 
> There are a lot of places in this story where I just don't have time to elaborate like I want to— things happening in the background, things i reference but can't explain, feels, etc.— and some weeks, instead of regular chapters, I'll write Outtakes!
> 
> Anyways: New roller coaster of a chapter. lots'a feels. lots'a angst. 
> 
> Let me know if there are any things I need to tag for trigger/content warnings.
> 
> Happy reading!  
> ~Tay

Lance was still. The druid was standing in front of him and, even though he couldn’t see its eyes due to the long cowl, he felt its gaze upon him. They had been pacing around him, their eyes never leaving him, and he’d be lying if he said he was anything less than terrified. It began another circle around him and Lance followed it with his eyes as long as he could. It stopped behind him again and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. 

“Do not resist, paladin.”

And that was the only warning he had before cold fingers pressed to his temples and a boiling heat spread into his head. 

His eyes shot open and his throat constricted, choking around what would have been a scream. The heat spread into his mind and then focused somewhere behind his eyes. He was panting and sweating like he’d just run a marathon. He didn’t know how long he was frozen there, this strange heat drilling into his mind before the druid spoke again.

“Tell me who you are,” they said. Suddenly, automatically, Lance’s mind flicked through images, seemingly on its own, of summers in Cuba, middle school with Hunk, opening his acceptance letter from the Garrison—

He was screaming now, trying to regain control over his mind. He didn’t want to show them this. This was his, it was his family, his abuela, his annoying aunt on his dad’s side who called him Lancelot. The druid had no right to any of this. He tried to empty his mind, meditate on water, say some of his mother’s rosary prayers— and for a moment it worked. Then there was splitting pain, the druid tightening its hold on his brain.

“Do. Not. Resist,” they hissed, digging their fingers into his temples. Lance screamed through a wave of pain as the druid redoubled its efforts, pulling up memories of his older sisters, his parents, the twins, until Lance was quietly crying. Useless to stop the raid on his mind and unable to stop the flood of memories. He wept for his family on Earth, but also for what he knew was coming. If he couldn’t even fight the druid’s power against memories of Cuba and America, he was scared for what they would find about Voltron. He pulled harder against the spikes in his mind but was greeted only by skull-splitting pain. 

He had tried so hard, been strong for so long, and now, with one evil trick, a druid was undoing everything he had tried to hold onto for his friends. All he had wanted was to protect them. It seemed like the only thing he could do, the only thing that kept him alive, and now…

Hot tears ran down Lance’s cheeks as he felt the druid sift through his memories. The twins wobbled towards him on tiny feet, his parents were dancing in the kitchen on a sunny morning, his mother was laughing at him and his sisters as they made a mess of her make-up kit. Nothing he tried would stop the flood of images, and he knew that he had lost. 

He heard the druid chuckle behind him.

“Poor little paladin. Rashta little thing.”

They must have felt the question in his brain, because they said—

“Rashta. Weak.”

And, as he cried, Lance couldn’t doubt it.

 

* * *

 

Sometime in the middle of the night, Keith woke up restless. He tried, and failed, to go back to sleep, but there was a cloud of stress that pulled him away from rest. Before long, he was in the hall, heading to the lions’ hangar. He stopped at the door, hesitating. In all of his fretting, there had been one recurring worry: what if his lion rejected him?

He could barely stand to look at himself; he was actively afraid of who he saw in the mirror. There had been brief, fleeting moments when he could will the purple away and look almost human, but they were short-lived. 

It wasn’t just that he was an alien. He was a Galra. How could he be a paladin of Voltron, the force going against the Galra Empire, if he looked like them? No one would want to be helped or rescued by a Galra, even if it had the support of Voltron. He thought back to all of the people they had saved, the things they had suffered at the Galra’s hands, the horrors the Galra had put them through. Is that what they would see when they looked at him? Was that what Shiro saw in the med bay?

Hunk had said that Shiro hadn’t left him, but Allura had said that the older paladin needed time. Shiro was the closest thing he had ever had to a family. He was Keith’s best friend and mentor. If he lost him… And that’s not to say that he didn’t love the others, or care what they thought— Lance had been right about how close they all were now— but their opinions wouldn’t weigh on him nearly as heavily as Shiro’s. 

He sighed and looked up at the door to the hangar. He took a deep breath and stepped forward. The doors slid open and their lions were there, resting. The blue lion still had her shield around her, and his eyes tightened at the sight. He braced himself and stepped into the room. He walked to his lion and looked up at her.

“Hey… it’s me,” he said quietly. He pressed a clawed hand to one of her giant, mechanical paws. “I... I’m different now. I’m not sure how okay that is for you but… I hope we’re still connected. I  _ want _ us to still be connected. You’re part of this weird family too.” He looked around the hangar. “You all are. Blue—,” he hesitated, unsure how to talk to a lion that wasn’t his. He turned to the blue lion. “Blue. We’ll bring him back to you. I promise. Even if I’m not on this team when it happens… Lance’ll come back to you.” 

Keith jumped as his lion moved, lowering her head to him. She slowly opened her jaws and Keith felt a small measure of tension flow out of him.

“Thanks, Red,” he said, slowly climbing into the lion. He settled himself in the pilot’s chair and relaxed. 

He still had the trust of his lion, the comforting rumble in the back of his head told him that. If Red was still here for him, maybe his team would be too.

 

* * *

 

Lance was in agony. It felt like he was drifting in and out of sleep, flitting from painful awareness to vivid nightmares. The druid was sifting through his memories, showing him past fights, moments in the castle, meals with his family, anything and everything.

“Your mind is so cluttered with sentiment,” The druid hissed, digging its blunt nails into Lance’s temples. “Your emotions clog your perception of things. It is rather difficult to find what is useful in your knowledge.”

Lance grit his teeth and, bracing himself for the pain, tried to pull his consciousness away from the druid’s grip. He screamed, tears sliding down his face as fire seemed to rip through his skull.

“It is valiant, though idiotic, that you continue to do that,” The druid sighed as it tightened its grip on his mind. “You are so desperate to prove your worth. To yourself. To others. You think that if you can just protect them from this, that you will have earned your place with them. It is truly fascinating.” Lance whimpered, flinching at the words. “You know now how useless your resistance is. That you are rashta, destined to lose.” 

The memories were moving faster now, flicking through scattered moments in Lance’s life, and he cried out as the painful heat hit him again, the spikes of the druid’s energy pulling harder against his memories. A wave of nausea hit him as the energy in his head changed.The druid made a pleased noise.

“Ah, here we are.” Everything around Lance seemed to slow to a halt. He was looking at the bridge of the castle of lions. Suddenly the stillness changed to the harsh movement of seizure—

And then there was nothing.

 

* * *

 

Shiro was pacing in the common room. That morning on the ship had been quiet. He’d woken up and gone to train on his own, like he usually did. He met Hunk and Coran in the kitchen for breakfast and stayed as Pidge and Allura came in. They all sat and ate. And waited. And hoped. It was past time for what should have been morning training, and they were still all in the kitchen, waiting for someone they knew wouldn’t come. Pidge awkwardly suggested they do mind-meld exercises in the common room for a bit, as training for the day. The meld had been terrible. All of their combined worries about Lance and Keith came out in one jumbled mess that left Shiro, Pidge, and Hunk shaking. Pidge left to help Allura clean up the med bay, and Hunk went to go cook something for Keith. Which left Shiro by himself.

Thus the pacing.

He wanted to be okay. He really did. Keith was one of his best friends and had been for years. That hadn’t, and wouldn’t change. But, no matter what he tried to tell himself, something was different, and now the two of them had to find a way to recover from the bizarre, if not frightening, transformation. Keith was a Galra now. Not a Galra in the way Shiro knew them, but a Galra nonetheless. Surely this change in appearance wouldn’t turn the younger boy into some bloodthirsty conqueror. Shiro knew that. But Shiro also knew how Keith’s mind reacted to emotional stimuli. The younger paladin wouldn’t deal well with his new form. His absence the entire day was a testament to that. 

Shiro steeled himself and went into the main corridor, practically running into Hunk with a plate of food. Shiro accepted the plate from the younger paladin and made his way towards Keith’s room. He knocked on the door once, and then again, but there was no answer. He pressed his hand to the control panel and, surprisingly, the door slid open.

“Keith?” Shiro called, stepping into the room. He set the food down on the small desk and looked around the empty room. He left and went to the training room, finding it similarly empty. He touched the intercom panel by the door and paged the med bay. “Allura, come in.” There was a long minute and then her voice buzzed through.

“Shiro? What’s wrong?”

“Is Keith down there with you?”

“No, I haven’t seen him today.” A coil of uncertainty settled in Shiro’s stomach. “Should I be worried?” 

“No,” he lied. “I’m sure he just needed some space outside of his room." Shiro took off. He ran back to Keith’s room, double checking that the paladin hadn’t returned there while Shiro had been looking elsewhere. He was staring at the empty bed when he suddenly knew exactly exactly where the other paladin was. He walked to the lions’ hangar and entered the space. The lions were in their usual spots, but the red lion was lying down, mouth open as though someone was inside. Shiro walked to the lion’s open mouth and took a deep breath. He opened his mouth to call Keith, or maybe ask permission to enter, but nothing came out. 

He tried again, but found himself frozen. He spent a tense minute, and then another, wavering outside the red lion before Keith’s voice drifted to him from inside the robot.

“I know you’re out there, Shiro.” The younger boy said. “You can come in.”

Shiro took a deep breath, walked slowly into the red lion, and shuddered. He could feel the lion’s energy pressing against him, as if she had formed a protective cloud around her paladin. The thought made him smile.

“Me too,” he whispered, pressing a hand to the metal wall. 

He arrived in the cockpit of the lion and stopped. He looked at the back of the pilot’s chair, and sighed. Of course Keith wouldn’t want to be seen.

Shiro cleared his throat, but Keith remained silent. 

“How are you—“

“Do you hate me?” Keith interrupted.

“What?” Shiro said, stunned.

“Do you hate me. I know you were afraid of me, yesterday in the med bay. I could tell. Even now it’s like—and I know this is weird but— it’s like I can  _ smell  _ your nerves.”

“Keith, it’s not—“

“Just… tell me the truth. Don’t just say something to make me feel better, okay?” the red paladin said quietly.

“I would never. You’re right. I was scared yesterday, but… I wasn’t scared of you. I was scared for you. Everything just got harder for you, for Voltron. And I—I don’t know how to help, or what to do.” Keith was silent, which Shiro took as permission to continue. “While you were changing… I was a mess. I just sat there looking at you and trying not to think about the Galra we have history with. You’re nothing like that and never will be, but there’s… Visuals are always stronger than we give them credit for.”

Keith felt his throat constrict. He clenched his eyes shut, and pressed his clawed hands over his ears. Of course his appearance would be too much. It was stupid of him to expect otherwise. The Galra had held Shiro hostage for a year, had forced him to kill in the arena and do and lord knows what else. It was selfish of Keith to expect Shiro to look at him, much less remain his friend—

Keith looked up and into the familiar grey of Shiro’s eyes: warm, just like they’d always been. The older paladin gently pulled one of Keith’s hands away from his ears.

“Visuals are strong. But when I look at you, I see the same annoying little hot-head I always did,” Shiro said with a quirk of the lips. Keith couldn’t help the stunned chuckle that slipped out of him, and he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He slowly stood out of his chair and slipped his arms around Shiro, who returned the hug fiercely. 

“Thank you,” Keith whispered.

“You have nothing to thank me for,” Shiro said, resting his chin on top of Keith’s head. They stayed like that for a quiet moment before Shiro chuckled.

“What?” Shiro shrugged.

“I guess I’m just shocked that your newfound Galra-ness didn’t come with any extra height.” Keith rolled his eyes and punched Shiro’s side.

“Good to know that you’re still annoying too.”

 

* * *

 

Lance woke slowly. He was stiff and his head was throbbing. There was some cloying smell extremely close by. He opened his eyes and squinted in the dim room. Even though he couldn’t see anyone, he heard voices from somewhere nearby; Haskoh’s deep growl and the sibilant hiss of the druid. 

“The boy understands little about Voltron and the Castle, though he has seen many things that could potentially be useful.” Lance struggled to keep quiet. If they had seen within the castle, within Blue—

“What about the prison raids?” Haskoh asked, “Surely there is some pattern to them or something we can use to intercept Voltron—

“As I said, the prison raids are random. It seems just as much your luck as theirs that you and your squadron found them. They could have just as easily been at any other prison.”

“But—“

“But you told Lord Zarkon you knew they would be there. You told him it was your prowess that brought you the blue paladin.” Haskoh was silent. “And now, you cannot possibly reproduce the results you claimed.”

“And he has no knowledge of where they go? Or where they end up?” Lance stiffened, praying that he hadn’t condemned the many refugees the team had worked so hard to protect.

“Though he has been many places, he knows no coordinates or useful destinations. There are a number of bastard planets to which Voltron delivers the people they ‘liberate,’ however—“

“I don’t care about escaped prisoners! The empire has no dearth of prisoners. It isn’t their absence, or even where they go that concerns the emperor. He thinks—“

“You need not tell  _ me  _ what our emperor thinks, General. I have served him dutifully since my origination. It is you, who has lied to serve yourself, and could not even divine the truth from the mind of a worthless human, who should worry about Lord Zarkon’s concerns.” Haskoh was quiet for a long minute, and Lance heard the druid chuckle. “Now, we shall proceed thusly: I will take you and the paladin to Lord Zarkon, and we shall present the boy to Lord Zarkon as a gift. Perhaps that will inspire the emperor to take pity on you.”

Lance felt as though his heart had stopped. He tried to take a deep breath to center himself, but ended up coughing weakly, his raw throat rejecting the rush of air. 

“Ah, he’s awake,” the druid said. The pair approached, and Lance felt his body flood with adrenaline. He felt the instinctual need to flee. The pair walked around him, into his field of vision. Haskoh stood back, fists clenched at his side. The druid drifted forward, and placed one ice cold hand on Lance’s face, tilting his head upwards. “Welcome back, Rashtan,” the druid hissed. Lance took a sharp breath and coughed again, flinching against the smell. “You were sick on yourself during the process. Not uncommon,” the druid said, answering his unasked question. They looked at Lance’s panicked eyes and then down at his tattered uniform and many bruises. The druid tutted quietly. It turned to Haskoh. “I will return for you both in two days time. I expect you to have cleaned him up by then; he’s in terrible shape. If you were not getting results, you should have seen the uselessness of your actions and stopped. He’s barely fit for a prize.”

“Yes, Nurav,” Haskoh said tersely. Nurav, the druid, made a pleased sound and turned away.

“Two days time, Haskoh.” 

Nurav left, the door sliding shut behind them. Haskoh stood looking at Lance, rage burning in his yellow eyes. General Haskoh whirled on Lance, who was leaned over, already shaking in his restraints. He grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head up. Haskoh leaned down, hissing directly into Lance’s face.

“You sickening piece of filth, I should have handed you to Zarkon the minute I found you! You weren’t worth the trouble of keeping you alive on my ship.” Then, he turned and left, leaving Lance alone, strapped to a chair with nothing but his aches and the smell of his own vomit as company.

* * *

 

It was the next morning. Team Voltron was gathered in the common room. Shiro and Keith stood in the center of the room, Shiro with one steadying hand on Keith’s shoulder, while the rest of the team was gathered on the couches. 

Keith’s head hurt, just a bit. He had spent a long time yesterday in the med bay talking with Allura about his new body. He showed her the way he could change his skin color, and she gasped, saying that it was practically unheard of for Galra to have shifting abilities. She warned him against using them for now; no matter how much he wanted to appear normal, it would take time to train the skill. They also talked about his enhanced senses. She told him that he would have to be careful not to overstimulate himself while he was still adjusting. He could tell now what she meant, just standing in the common room he was surprised by how many more smells he was aware of, and how bright the fluorescent lighting in the castle suddenly seemed. 

He shook himself; this was important. Behind him, Shiro started to speak.

“I know we’re all still reeling from the stress of the last two and a half weeks, but I think we’d all agree that now is the time for action. We need to resume training, and we need to put together a plan.” Keith stepped forwards.

“We know it won’t be easy, but if we all work, and stay, together, we can bring Lance home. We should start by searching the prisons in the galaxy where we lost him. We’ve lost too much time already. If it’s true that the warden who took Lance is based in one specific galaxy, then it’s possible that he still has Lance there. We should also try looking for a command center or something that could give us access to information either about Lance or the guys who took him.”

Keith looked around the room. Pidge and Hunk looked determined, though Allura looked wary. Shiro must have also noticed.

“Princess,” he asked, “is there something you disagree with?”

“No,” Allura started, shaking her head. “I agree that searching within the warden’s galaxy of jurisdiction is a good, if not our only, place to begin. I’m just hesitant. We have been ignoring other missions while trying to regroup and we are still unable to form Voltron. Without the blue lion, we are vulnerable to any attacks that could happen while we search. It is less than ideal—“

“Allura, if I may,” Coran said from his perch on an armrest. “It is possible that we may not be without all five lions. If the blue lion would accept an alternate pilot—“

“We’re not going to replace Lance,” Keith snapped.

“Yeah, it wouldn’t be right,” Hunk said.

“Even if we did, the search for a pilot would be a waste of time,” Shiro said placatingly.

“Not necessarily,” Coran said. “I don’t think we’d have far to look at all.” He turned towards Allura, who was staring determinedly at the ground between her feet. 

“Coran, it is foolish,” She sighed.

“What is?” Pidge asked.

“It is possible—no, likely— that the blue lion would accept Allura as a pilot. It is the most reasonable of the lions and is especially fond of family.”

“What do you mean when you say ‘fond of family?’” Hunk said.

“Before the blue lion was hidden on earth,” Allura whispered, “She was piloted by the last Queen of Altea.”

“But that means…“ Pidge said, trailing off.

“Yes Pidge. My mother was the blue paladin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment! leave kudos! I crave validation! it makes me write more!
> 
> Come yell at me on [tumblr](https://profoundprincessface.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> hugs from space  
> ~Tay


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *audible gasp* A continuation of the story!!
> 
> Hi lovelies!
> 
> What a surprise! The plot moves!!
> 
> This chapter is longer, and the rest of Act 1 is also 4000+ words per chapter.
> 
> This chapter, despite the continued angst, is sort of the calm before the storm. I promised y'all angst and _boy oh boy_ are y'all gonna get it.
> 
> As usual, keep me posted about trigger/content warnings needed.
> 
> Also, thank you all so much for every comment and kudos. They really mean so much to me.
> 
> And now, the suffering.
> 
> ~Tay

The common room was tense with quiet. They had spent four days running several successful although tense missions into prisons in the galaxy where they had lost Lance. The raids had been successful in terms of rescuing prisoners, but in terms of saving their friend, the missions had left much to be desired. The team was on edge. Everyone had been emotionally raw since Keith’s transformation, and the fruitless missions had done little to help. The discussion from last week had been thoroughly abandoned. Allura had refused to discuss her mother or her potential relationship with the blue lion. 

_“If the current plan is simply to resume with prison raids, which we have often done without all five lions or Voltron, then I see no reason to pursue a new pilot for the blue lion, even if it seems that we have one readily available. I will continue to help with missions in my usual capacity.”_

And she had been right. They hadn’t needed the blue lion for the rescue missions. However, there didn’t seem to be any progress being made.

_“This is getting us nowhere! We need to find that warden’s base and go there ourselves. Even if he doesn’t still have Lance, he’ll know where he is,”_ Keith had yelled during another team discussion. That had turned into another two hour debate between Allura and Keith about which missions jeopardized the team versus whether or not the risks would be justified. It had taken some time, but Allura had eventually realized that the others sided with Keith: better to take risks for fast results than to waste time and energy searching without direction. They would need a separate mission for stealing information from a Galra ship in order to find the warden’s base. This was a longer and more dangerous mission than their previous work, especially without five paladins. It would also make anything they tried afterwards more dangerous.

They would need Voltron.

Now, Allura was standing in front of her team, Coran at her side. She opened her mouth to speak then stopped, coughed, and tried again. 

“As you all know, the war with Zarkon raged for years, even before I was born. Coran was already training as an advisor by that time, but even he was young when Zarkon chose to turn again the other paladins of Voltron. But, while Zarkon was the paladin of the black lion, my mother served with him as the blue paladin. It was her military prowess and reasoned air that drew my father to her, and they were soon married. Nevertheless, it was years before they had me. Unrest throughout the galaxy meant that Voltron was often busy with fights and diplomatic ventures, and, even though the queen had decided she wanted a child, it was years before the state of the galaxy would allow her to conceive. Even during her pregnancy, she had to fight in her lion.”

“King Alfor had a theory,” Coran said, “that it was the Queen’s bond with the blue lion that strengthened Allura’s bonds with the lions and allows her to locate them in space. One could say that she and the lions have compatible quintessent energies”

“Wait, but if Allura’s mom piloted Blue,” Pidge started, “and her energy is compatible, wouldn’t that mean she can pilot the blue lion? And we all trust her. We’re all pretty bonded. We could form Voltron and save Lance, with Allura as Blue’s pilot.” Pidge looked around the room, as though asking someone to verify her theory. Coran nodded, stroking his mustache.

“While I hope it would work like that, there’s no telling whether or not the blue lion would agree with us—”

“But the blue lion is the friendliest lion,” Keith said. “Especially since Allura is family--”

“While the blue lion is the most accepting lion for paladins, she is always the most protective of her current paladin.” Allura said. “Although I’m the daughter of Blue’s previous paladin, there’s no guarantee that would win me any favors in her eyes. She’s had her shield up the entire time that Lance has been gone. It’s possible that she will refuse to allow anyone to pilot her.”

“But there’s no denying that you have the best chance of being able to pilot the blue lion, princess,” Coran said. “She’ll trust you more than myself or any other pilot we could find. However, it isn’t just the lion that needs to be ready for this. Yes, she needs to be willing to be piloted, but you also have to be willing and prepared to pilot her.”

“Of course Allura would pilot Blue,” Hunk said, “If we’re going to attack this Grand Warden’s command center, we’ll need all five lions. We’ll need Voltron.”

All eyes fell on Allura, who was wringing her hands.

“You… You’d do it, right?” Hunk asked, strain in his voice. The room had gone quiet again. 

“If the blue lion will have me, I will be her paladin,” Allura said. Around her, the others immediately fell into planning, but Allura was quiet, unable to shake the itch between her shoulder blades. In her mind, she heard her mother’s clear voice.

“The blue lion is the most emotionally honest of the lions. She will not thank you for lying to her, and will reject you for lying to yourself. Alfor says she is for the pure of heart, but I say she is for the emotionally truthful.”

Coran laid a gentle hand between Allura’s shoulders.

“It is the right thing to do, princess,” he whispered in Altean. Allura nodded. 

“And for that reason, I shall do it,” she responded. She looked at her paladins, arguing strategy, and steeled herself. No matter her personal feelings about the blue lion, she would do this for them. And, when they had Lance safe in the castle, she would step down. Lance was the rightful blue paladin. It was her job to bring him back.

Later, Team Voltron was gathered outside of Blue’s hangar. 

“Allura, are you sure you want all of us there when you approach Blue?” Shiro said. “It doesn’t feel right for us to —“

“I need you all to be there,” Allura said. “You are my tether. My duty to you, my duty to Lance, it’s what makes this feel like a possibility.” Shiro nodded and looked ahead to the door. The team walked together into the hangar. Blue sat in the middle of the room, shield still up. They stopped, and Allura slowly stepped forward. 

She walked up to the barrier and reached a hand towards the pulsating energy. The Blue lion was still and silent for a long minute, while team Voltron waited with baited breath. One minute dragged into two, into five, into nearly twenty minutes of silent tension, before the barrier pulled away, so quietly it was almost imperceptible, and the blue lion leaned into a crouch in front of Allura.

 

 

* * *

 

Lance spent a day being passed from Galra healers to groomers, all of whom handled him like cattle. The healers put him in a pod to removed his most recent wounds. The groomers took his hair, which had long since grown into curls that hung dark with sweat after every session with Haskoh, and sheared it all off. Two Galra in white uniforms were in charge of bathing him. If their invasive eyes and prying hands were any indication, they were more researchers, given a only short while with the earthling. Their eyes were still hungry, even as they dressed him a new prisoner’s uniform and shoved him back in his room. 

He curled up on the floor, and tried hard not to think about his future, or even the past he’d left behind. He told himself that the others would come for him, but even as he thought it, he heard Haskoh’s scathing voice in his head telling him how he had been abandoned. 

For the first time in weeks, he was alone in his cell for long enough to sleep. He had nightmares of druids and burning fingers prying into his mind. He woke groggy and disoriented, with Haskoh and Nurav looming over him. He was quickly shackled and, for the first time, gagged, a solid barrier fitted beneath his nose and tightened behind his head. Haskoh gripped him by the arm and followed Nurav out of the room. No matter how he struggled, Haskoh’s grip stayed firm, bruising, the entire walk through the ship, even after three guards fell into formation around Lance.

They moved him onto Nurav’s ship, and he was led to a hallway filled with stasis pods. All but one of the pods were closed, empty and deactivated. One was open, waiting. Lance pulled even harder against Haskoh’s grip. If they put him in that pod, he would lose all sense of time. He would wake up seconds later on an unknown ship with unknown handlers and he would be helpless to stop it. 

He threw himself to the floor, and managed to free himself from Haskoh’s grip. Sure, Haskoh’s claws tore into the muscle of his arm, but one bleeding wound wouldn’t seem so bad if he could just—

Two of the guards hoisted him into the air. He trashed and kicked, but in his weakened state he didn’t even phase the hulking galra. They forced him into the pod, caging him in with their bulk. They strapped him in as his eyes searched frantically, looking for an opening, a weak point, anything. 

All he found was Haskoh’s cruel smile as his hand moved on a panel and glass closed down in front of him.

 

 

* * *

 

After Allura was accepted by the blue lion, Team Voltron moved in a whirlwind of activity. Allura had never piloted a lion before, so they had to spend a day on a variety of training exercises; but Allura was quick study and talented pilot, and was soon comfortable in the cockpit. Despite this, they hadn’t yet been able to form Voltron. Shiro said it was probably due to tensions running high and a lot of raw emotion, so they decided to practice the joining first with a mind meld.

“Clear your minds.” Coran said soothingly. “Focus on yourself, then move that focus outwards. Focus on those around you. On your connections to them.” Shiro was sitting beside Keith in the circle and could hear his steady breathing, incongruent to the taught line of stress that seemed to connect the red paladin to the mind meld. “Open your mind to your team. You are all partners in this, and it is trust in that partnership that will carry you forward.”

Shiro took a deep breath and allowed himself to relax into the exercise, opening his mind to his fellow paladins. He found that they all shared the same fears: 

_What if we’re too late—What if we never find them— will be afraid—I won’t be able to let go-—Of me. Afraid of me.—I have to be strong for—I have to save him—Oh, father, what would you think of me—_

“Know that you will support one another, and turn that sureness into your connection with Voltron.”

In the middle of the circle, Hunk and Pidge’s lions flickered into view, followed by Shiro’s, and, more slowly, the blue lion.

“Trust in those around you. Know that they trust you.”

The red lion flickered, twice, but was unable to form.

“Breathe and clear your minds,” Coran said. Keith grit his teeth and exhaled, trying and failing to relax into the exercise.

“It’s okay Keith, we’re all here for you.” Shiro murmured. Keith felt around the circle again. There were the three familiar signatures of Shiro, Pidge, and Hunk, but Allura’s mental signature, even though he knew her, felt exceptionally foreign, as if something had changed in her since becoming the blue paladin. Then again, it could just be his own recent change that made him feel off. Allura had been there for him, navigating him through the changes in his body. He sighed again, reopening himself to the others and refocusing. His lion flickered into being and the five drifted together, merging into Voltron.

“Well done, paladins!” Coran cheered. They all opened their eyes and the exercise ended. Keith pulled off the headpiece and looked around the circle. While everyone was noticeably relieved that the mind meld had worked and they would be able to form Voltron, it had also laid bare all of their worries. Everyone felt exposed, but sure of themselves. Their raw emotions weren’t a hinderance; simply a fact. 

They went to their lions and back into training exercises. They moved through different formations and attack patterns before they went to form Voltron.

The merge was intense. The amount of energy that it took to form Voltron seemed monumental compared to the easy transformations they’d had before Lance was taken, but when it was done, Voltron seemed effortless. Becoming Voltron had been hard, likely because they were fitting a new piece into a familiar puzzle, but when it was all done they moved together well. Despite her hesitance, Allura fit into the team easily.

Spirits were high when they returned to the castle, but it was only minutes before the joy and relief of having formed Voltron wore off.

“Now that we know we can form Voltron,” Shiro said, “it’s time for us to begin planning a recon mission. We need to find that warden’s main base.”

“I can steal that information from any prison in that galaxy,” Pidge said. “The only problem will be time. I’ve got the route to the lock codes memorized, but this will be starting from scratch. I’ll need time and access to a central control room. It’ll be hard to get—”

“We’ll get you in and we’ll cover you. You just need to worry about the hack,” Keith said.

“But I don’t know how long the hack will take—”

“We all believe in you, Pidge,” Shiro said, laying a hand on her shoulder. “You do what you can. We’ll handle everything else. “

 

* * * 

 

“Are you sure it’s okay that Hunk’s is the only lion on the outside?”

“Pidge, we’ve talked about this,” Shiro said placatingly. “This isn’t an offensive, it’s a stealth mission. Yours and the yellow lions can remain invisible for longest—” 

“Yes, but what if I need more time and the cloak fails? His is the slowest lion—”

“But the most heavily armored and with long range weapons. Hunk will be fine.” Keith said shortly.

“No need to worry Pidge,” Hunk said through the comms. “Me and Coran can handle anything that comes out. This prison’s in a practically empty corner of the galaxy.” And he was right. They had chosen a prison on the edge of the galaxy where they had lost Lance. It would be less heavily defended than other locations, but still within the information system Pidge needed to access. 

They felt the castle leave the wormhole and Shiro nodded to Pidge, who took a deep breath before steering her lion forward.

“Cloak on,” she said, hearing Hunk respond through the comms. They flew in formation and landed on the prison ship, moving to the underside of the administrative wing rather than the usual ventures to the prison holds. Allura cut them in through the hull and they emerged in an empty hallway. Pidge hacked into a control panel on the wall and found a map of the facility. “We need to go to the east-most part of the ship and two floors up. That’ll take us to the bridge, and I can hack the main system from there.”

“Keith, you’re in the lead. Allura, cover Pidge. I’ll bring up the rear. We don’t get separated.”

They were all on alert as they set out, swiftly but cautiously, through the halls of the facility. Keith’s newly heightened senses helped them avoid a good number of the guards on their route. Any others they encountered were dispatched before they could sound the alarm. They made it all the way to the top floor in minutes. Pidge hacked the lock on the door and Shiro and Keith rushed into the bridge. There were only four galra in the room—the perks of a small facility—and within seconds, Pidge was on the central console.

“Starting the hack now,” she said, fingers a blur on the console. There were a quiet five minutes where the only things to be heard were the beeps of the monitor as Pidge tore through its systems. At one point, a small trio of two sentries and a guard came into the room, but Keith and Shiro took care of them in seconds. “I found it!”

“Good work, Pidge. How long do you need?”

“Starting download now. We should be out of here in two minutes.”

The download finished and they took off through the halls of the ship, barely even stopping to handle what few guards intercepted them. Keith tore through a droid with his sword before the others even got to it. At one point, their path was blocked by ten Galra soldiers, and Keith had run headlong towards them before Shiro could even blink. Keith was ruthless, attacking with vicious precision that left six Galra on the floor in the same minute it took the others to take care of the remaining four soldiers.

“Keith, you have blood—“ Allura started.

“It’s not mine. Let’s keep moving,” he said, turning and continuing back down the hall. At some point on the way back to the green lion the alarm went off, but the team had too much of a head start on the guards. They made it into the green lion and back to the castle, warping back to a safe zone in minutes.

In the hangar, Shiro addressed the team.

“Good work, team. Pidge, how long will it take to upload that data to the castle mainframe?”

“I’m not sure,” She pulled off her helmet and tapped her chin with a finger. "I had to grab a lot of stuff about the upper administration, so there’s more data than we probably need but… maybe an hour if we use the castle mainframe?” 

“Alright. Take a break, wash up, and meet back on the bridge in one hou—” His brows furrowed as he looked around the circle. “Keith, are you bleeding?” The red paladin, furrowed his brow, looking down at himself.

“Not that I kn— Oh.” On his right side, there were two small gashes, probably claw-marks from one of the soldiers. 

“Keith—” Shiro started, voice tired.

“It’s really nothing. I barely noticed it. I’ll go patch myself up—”

“Hunk, Pidge, dismissed. Keith, you and I will go down to the med bay. Allura, can you come set up a pod for us?”

“It’s really not that—”

“Keith.” Shiro said firmly. Keith stopped protesting and nodded. Shiro laid a hand on Keith’s shoulder and led him out of the hangar, Allura following behind the two of them. When they got to the med bay, Shiro sat Keith down on the table and helped him remove his armor. They stripped his torso, and Shiro went to work cleaning the wound, frowning at Keith’s pained hiss. Keith rolled his eyes and braced himself for Shiro’s criticisms. Surprisingly, it was Allura who spoke first.

“Keith, you really need to be more careful. We’re in a critical moment for the team right now. We can’t have you needlessly endangering yourself.”

“I was just completing the mission—”

“Keith, you were reckless,” Shiro scolded.

“I was trying to get us out of there. _All_ of us.” Shiro sighed.

“Keith, we know you’re anxious about Lance. We all are. But you running headlong into Galra soldiers and getting hurt isn’t going to help us, and definitely won’t help Lance.” Keith bristled, snatching the first aid kit up off the table and hopping down.

“I’ll fix myself up in my room—”

“Keith, you can do ten minutes in the pod—”

“They’re scratches, Shiro. It’s a flesh wound.

“Keith, you don't need to spend two weeks with that. Just let us—“

“We shouldn’t even use the pods for shit like thi—”

“It’ll scar.” Shiro said seriously. 

“Keith, maybe Shiro is—”

“Can you not, princess?” Keith spat the title into the air, lips drawing back in a snarl. “I get that you’re wise and Pidge worships you and whatever, but I honestly don’t think you, with whatever little power trip you’re on right now—”

“Keith, out of line!” Shiro yelled, stepping between the Keith and Allura.

“Oh, come on. I’m not the only one who noticed. She’s practically foreign to us in mind melds, and there’s no explanation for that other than whatever it is that sets her preening when she gets in Blue.”

“This has been a big change for all of us. It’s unfair to Allura for you to—”

“For me to what, know that she’s not all she’s pretending to be? The gracious space goddess act doesn’t work on all of us, Shiro.”

“I think you should take some time to cool off.”

“Oh, so now I’m just dismissed.”

“Well, you’d wanted to leave anyways.’

“Fine.” Keith said, turning and storming out.

“Bridge. One hour.” Shiro said, but the younger paladin didn’t respond, just letting the door to the med bay slide closed behind him, before taking off down the hall. Shiro sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Allura, I’m so sorry about that, I don’t know what’s gotten into him—”

“It’s fine, Shiro. Keith has been under an exceptional amount of stress lately,” she said, clasping her hands in front of her. “It’s not surprising that it has made him, er, emotional. Now, if you’d excuse me. I’m going to go make sure Pidge doesn’t need any help with the upload.” Allura strode out of the bay, leaving Shiro alone and confused. He sighed and began to clean up. 

 

* * *

 

Lance took a stinging breath through his nose. He shivered violently, his entire body cold, but also drenched with anxious sweat. He was falling forward, and thrust his hands out in front of him but, with the electromagnetic cuffs encasing his wrists, he couldn’t catch himself properly and hit the floor with a thud. He looked in front of him and found a series of feet, some in boots, some covered by flowing cloaks. He scrambled back, nearly crawling back into the pod, when he took in his surroundings. 

He was surrounded by druids, their blank hoods looking down at him, There was a high ranking Galra, obvious from his stature and embellished uniform off to the side. Directly in front of him was Zarkon. His yellow eyes gleamed with something between hatred and pleasure. It made Lance’s skin crawl.

“Welcome to my ship, paladin,” Zarkon hissed with a smile. Lance’s eyebrows drew together angrily, even as bile rose in his throat. Zarkon chuckled and gestured to the other Galra in the room, who stepped forward and knelt down in front of Lance. He reached forward, lifting a hand towards Lance’s head and Lance flinched, knocking against the pod. The Galra smirked, reaching behind Lance to unlatch the gag. It fell away and he grabbed Lance by the collar of his prisoner uniform. Hauling him forward until he was kneeling in front of Zarkon.

“Address your new leader, paladin,” the galra said, shifting his clawed hands so he was holding Lance by the back of his head and by the jaw, forcing him to look up at Zarkon. Lance took a ragged breath and steeled himself, before spitting a glob of saliva at Zarkon’s shining boots.

“Go to hell,” he rasped.

The room was shocked, silent, before everyone reacted. The druids all began to whisper, some of their hands flickering with energy. The Galra holding him, jerked him upwards by the throat and Lance worried momentarily that the Galra would snap his neck between his hands, killing him instantly. Part of him wondered if that would be better than whatever came next. 

Zarkon raised a hand, quieting the room. He chuckled darkly as Lance squirmed, gasping in the hands of the galra official. Zarkon said something in Galra and the official nodded, dropping Lance on the ground and stepping back. 

“Nurav, he is the prize that you brought me. What do you think we should do to make him more… obedient?”

Nurav glided forward, stopping behind Zarkon’s left shoulder.

“Tie him up in the airlock and open it. Leave him there until he loses consciousness, then close the doors until he wakes up. Do this until he understands who is in control.” Lance shuddered, stomach clenching nervously.

“Very well. Lord Tarnec, you are in charge of him.” The galra official nodded. “Deliver him to the holding block when you are done.”

With that, The room emptied except for Tarnec, Nurav, and two other guards that Lance hadn’t noticed before. They converged on him and Nurav chuckled. 

“Rashta.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visit me on [tumblr](https://profoundprincessface.tumblr.com/)!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi darlings!
> 
> This chapter's a little bit late. logistical discussion in the end note. I have a few different things I could do for y'all and am having trouble deciding. Head to the end note for that.
> 
> Things about this chapter:
> 
> It's long! 4500+ words, which is 1000 words longer than average.
> 
> This chapter raises the rating! You'll notice that we moved from Teen to Mature here, just because we're getting into discussions of harder topics including threats of sexual violence. It's mild this chapter, however, it only gets worse next chapter. (Tay, how is it _still_ getting worse? When are you saving our boy? I'm working on it.)
> 
> Even though there will be discussions of sexual violence and assault in the piece, there will be no actual rape/non-con situations. I will not tag the piece for that unless asked to. 
> 
> As always, let me know if there are trigger/content warnings I need to add.
> 
> Also as always, thank you so much for every single comment. I'm still responding to all of them so if you wanna talk to this piece of trash, put it in the comments or message me on [tumblr](https://profoundprincessface.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Happy reading!  
> ~Tay
> 
> Update: The link to the outtake from this chapter is now embedded in the text as well as in the end note!

Hunk was frustrated. The hack three days ago had been successful. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was, the dozens of files Pidge had pilfered had to be meticulously searched to try and find the warden bases listed for each sector. The galaxy only had one warden; a general called Haskoh. They had found that out fairly easily. The problem was, with the sheer size of his area of jurisdiction, there were multiple bases in different sectors of the galaxy. The sector with the tri-prison cluster where they lost Lance, MGH-7, didn’t have a base within it. This meant they had spent the last two, going on three, days sorting through all the information to find the sectors with bases, sort them by distance from MGH-7, and figure out how often Haskoh had visited that base in particular. Hopefully, whichever sector had the most frequent visits would prove to be Haskoh’s home base, or at least a starting point. Find Haskoh: find Lance.

Needless to say, Hunk was frustrated. He was tired of looking at data that could even prove useless to them. He was tired of refereeing the ever increasing spats between Keith and, well, everybody. And he was tired of worrying about Lance. He wanted his best friend back. And he was tired of trying and failing to bring him home.

Hunk sighed and stood up from his spot on the floor. He looked around the common room. Everyone was on a tablet, and looked equally as cranky. He sighed and went to the kitchens. This had been happening a lot recently; the entire team would fall into these slumps when the tension was too high. They would all get quiet and tired for hours on end. When it happened, it was all Hunk could do to drag himself up and cook something. It took his mind off things and made him feel helpful. Feeding the team, taking care of them; it all really mattered right now. Hunk looked into the fridge and found a pretty depressing array of things. Even though they had staged rescues recently, they hadn’t been able to restock from the refugee planets they had visited. There wasn’t much to work with. Nevertheless, he’d have to try. He grabbed a handful of fruits and the last of the grain and set to work.

At some point, Pidge wandered in, startling him when she spoke.

“What’re you making?” He whirled around, finding her perched on the counter.

“Hopefully, pancakes with berries in them,” he said, returning to his mixing bowl.

“Don’t you need flour for pancakes?”

“I ground up the rest of the grain. It should last us a few more days.”

“So that’s why you’ve been in here so long.” He stopped, looking up.

“How long have I been in here?” She shrugged.

“Something over an hour? I don’t think the others really noticed, but usually you’re back with something by now. I thought I’d come check on you.”

“Oh…” He leaned against the counter, wiping his face with his hand and smearing flour over his cheek. “Sorry I got caught up—”

“Grinding meal into flour.”

“...Yeah.”

“You know that we’re here for you too, right? You don’t always have to… you know, Mom everybody.” They both laughed.

“I know, but I like it. I think it makes all of us feel better,” She shrugged again.

“I mean, I’m not complaining. I love the snacks. I guess I’m just wondering if you’re okay though.”

“Well, I think things have really improved since we started flying missions agai—”

“Fine sure. _Voltron_ is okay. But is Hunk?” They were both quiet. Pidge pulled her feet up onto the counter, crossing them beneath her. Hunk sighed and went back to mixing.

“I will be when we get my best friend back.”

 

* * *

 

Lance was shaking on his feet. For what felt like hours he had choked on the vast nothingness of space and felt his heart pound so hard he thought it would simply give up on him. He would black out, only to wake up to the same opening window. That had been days ago, but the cold of it never seemed to leave his bones.

Now, he was being marched through the halls, following behind Zarkon and Lord Tarnec. He looked at the electromagnetic shackles around his wrists and the bolt of energy connecting them to one around his neck. Another bolt of energy connected his collar to a panel on the arm of Tarnec’s armor. The set up made Lance want to puke.

They arrived at a door and the bolt of energy shifted from Tarnec’s arm to a panel on Zarkon’s. Tarnec saluted Zarkon with a fist to his chest as Zarkon turned and entered the room, jerking Lance along behind him. The room was filled with more official looking individuals, only some of whom were Galra, though none of the group seemed friendly. They eyed Lance with unveiled interest as he stumbled into the room, and he tried not to shudder beneath the weight of their gazes.

“A fine prize, you have won, Emperor Zarkon,” One of them said. While Lance knew it hadn’t been English or anything he should understand, it rang clear and coherent in his mind. Part of him worried that it was some form of telepathic communication and he shuddered. He’d had enough strangers in his mind. He told himself it was probably technology: Alien advancements that worked like the translators in Star Trek or Doctor Who. There was nothing happening to his mind. He was so focused on trying to stave off a public panic attack about the translator that he didn’t hear the command until it was accompanied by a slap across his face. Lance fell to the floor, ears ringing.

“I said kneel, human swine.” Zarkon hissed, looming over him.  Lance struggled to balance himself on his knees with his hands still bound. Zarkon made a disapproving sound low in his throat. Others in the room chuckled. Zarkon took to his seat and the room hushed. Soon, they were talking about the galaxies the Galra already had control over and how to maintain that hold. Lance zoned out, mind racing.

He was kneeling like a dog at the feet of his greatest enemy. He was surrounded by people who hated him, yet refused to let him die. He was sick. He was cold in the thin tunic he had been given (more decorative than functional) and he missed his friends. He wanted to go home. Not to earth; he didn’t dare dream of Earth, it was too far out of his reach. He wanted the castle. He wanted Hunk. He wanted Pidge and Shiro and Allura. He missed Coran and even the mice. He wanted Keith. He wanted people who would take care of him. _Actually_ take care of him, not just keep him alive. All too soon, he felt hot tears slipping down his face. He frantically brought his bound hands to his eyes, wiping at the tears as best he could with his wrists so close together. He took deep breaths, trying to calm his breathing, and was close to succeeding when he heard the galra official closest to him snigger.

“Look how he cries, how pitiful,” He barked out a laugh, turning to Zarkon. “My liege, I worry that you may have done the Voltron paladins a favor by removing such a thing from their ranks.”

Lance froze. He looked up at the smirking galra official, not caring about his bloodshot eyes or tear streaked face. He took in their wide purple face, the beard-like tufts of fur along the bottom, the smugly narrowed yellow eyes. Lance felt his blood go hot, and in a second, he was lunging towards the galra, swearing in Spanish. He had his bound hands grabbing at the official’s beard, ready to rip the hair out or tug him in for a head-butt, when an electric shock moved through his body, swift and vicious. In a second he was on the ground, twitching.

He could hear the room laughing. Through it all, he heard the voice of the wide faced Galra.

“To have such spirit and no strength behind it. What a shame.”

Lance registered the door opening, and then felt himself be lifted. He was carried out and the laughter was quickly silenced by the closing of the automatic doors. He twitched in the arms of his handler as they walked him to the small holding room where he now resided. They laid him on the blanket on the floor and removed the shackles around his wrists.

Lance was left alone in the room. His tired body twitched with the residual energy from the shock, but it was the only movement he could achieve. He laid and waited for the paralysis to wear off. Minutes passed, but eventually, he was able to control his muscles again. He sat up, clutching his head, only to notice that he wasn’t alone in the room. He jumped, flinching backwards. The wide faced galra chuckled. Tarnec stood behind him, stoic.

“I am here to punish you for your earlier behavior, paladin,” he said, slowly crossing the room with measured steps. “Had any of my trophies behaved in such a manner I would have surely had them sold to a work camp or killed.

“Jarax ,” Tarnec said warningly. The other galra didn’t even acknowledge him, continuing to look only at Lance.

“However, considering that you are Emperor Zarkon’s own pet, I will have to discipline you in less harsh or permanent ways.” Jarax knelt in front of Lance and pulled him forward by the jaw. “My, what a specimen you are,” he breathed, almost reverent as he turned Lance’s head back and forth, looking him over. He put pressure on the joint of Lance’s jaw, forcing him to open his mouth, before forcing in one clawed finger. Lance gagged as it pressed backwards towards his throat. Jarax traced all of his teeth and around his tongue, pressing his claw into the muscle until Lance began to bleed. He pulled the finger out and looked at the bead of blood. He took a deep inhale and then licked the blood from his claw, grinning as he did so. A finger on his other hand traced the rim of Lance’s collar. “You could be useful at a work camp, paladin. Not as a worker of course. Much too small. Physically unsuitable. But _for_ the workers. That I’m sure you could do. Wouldn’t you agree, Tarnec?”

“Jarax , we know the Emperor disapproves of your methods, and has explicit instructions regarding handling of the boy. Either discipline within the rules or leave.”

Jarax sighed, moving up and away from Lance.

“The main council doesn’t understand the purpose of these pets, but fine. I’ll abide by the rules.” A foot swung into Lance’s side and he sprawled onto the floor. He scrambled to his feet, only to realize how very trapped he was. The room itself had cornered him, and even now he felt his legs shaking. “Come now, boy. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

And with that Jarax closed in on him.

 

* * *

 

Team Voltron was in the training room. They had spent much of the day finishing the catalogue, and now it was uploading to the castle’s servers. Soon, they would have Haskoh’s location. It was only a matter of time before they would have Lance.

They ran simulations for over an hour, while the computer recoded the data, matching coordinates to their frequency of visits from the warden. Coran came and stopped them when the transfer was done, and they all moved quickly from the training room, to the showers, to the bridge.

Pidge looked around the room. Allura was working at the console, typing quickly and pulling the data onto holoscreens. Shiro was standing in the back of the room, arms crossed. Hunk was leaning against a control panel and Keith was pacing. Shiro watched him track back and forth across the room. Something had been off between the two of them for a few days. They were still speaking, but it was never in their usual dynamic. Keith was defensive and Shiro would always be using his leader voice. She also hadn’t seen Keith and Allura interact outside of training since, well not since the night of the recon mission. Pidge watched Allura at the control panel. She looked as regal as usual: serene, controlled, head high and shoulders back. It didn’t seem particularly abnormal. Then again, as she looked around the room and saw the tired, downtrodden postures of those around her, it did feel out of place. But Allura was a princess. Being strong when others couldn’t came with the job.

Four of the screens suddenly flashed and Allura made a pleased sound. Coran spoke up from behind her.

“We have a location match. A primary hub in the center of the galaxy.” They all crowded forward and looked at the flashing coordinates.

“Sector Z-8 of Galaxy MGH-7,” Allura read. “He left there three days ago and, judging from the rest of the data, should return there within 20 earth hours, according to past trips. I’m saving the location in the castle. We can wormhole into the galaxy and then it is about an hour for to cross into the sector in the castle.” Allura enlarged one of the screens, showing a more detailed map of the galaxy. “Unfortunately, in the castle, we would be exposed during the entire approach. We would have to approach in Voltron to give us any sort of tactical advantage, but then we would need to disband so that at least three of us could go into the facility, find this Haskoh, and find Lance.”

“What level of defense system are we expecting on this facility, Allura?”

“Well, considering it is a Sector base, there should be standard defenses, roughly one battalion of fighters. The problem is, these bases likely communicate quickly. While we could quickly handle the initial line of defense and get into the ship, maintaining that while more fighters arrive would be much harder.”

The group was silent, all of them thinking about the situation presented to them.  Pidge spoke first.

“Hunk, your lion has the most shield power, cannons, and cloaking. You would be great on the outside…”

“Pidge, your lion can also cloak.” Shirts said. “If we could hide it on the outside, it would be safer than the others. Plus you would be good to have inside. We’ll have to get into a control room somehow.”

“But Shiro, your arm—“

“Isn’t a guarantee. We can’t take risks in there.” He looked around the circle and the quiet in the room turned tense. “We don’t know what we’ll find in there and, if we do find Lance, we don’t know what condition he’ll be in. I can carry him alone, but that leaves Pidge on defense.” Shiro locked eyes with Keith. It was the most eye contact the team had seen them make in days. “Keith, I would like to put you on the inside team to cover Pidge. Can you handle it?”

“Yes, Shiro,” Keith said quietly. Shiro nodded and turned to Allura.

“Allura, you and Blue will be on outer defenses. Stay focused though, if she senses Lance, she may try to buck you and go to him. You have to make sure she knows outside defense helps him.” He turned back to the group. “We may not leave this mission with Lance. If not, we’ll make the bastard who took him tell us where he is. We’re not stopping until we get our friend back.”

They all nodded, a wave a determination sweeping through the room. Shiro nodded, satisfied with his team.

“We go tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

Tarnec slammed the door to the holding cell. This was the fourth time in three days that he had been told to remove the paladin from an official meeting. Despite frequent punishments, he continued to speak out of turn—speak at all—during meetings. He would mock the council, mock Zarkon, and wouldn’t even flinch when Zarkon struck him or allowed the council members to beat him. He took it all, silently, smugly.

Tarnec waited in the hall. It wouldn’t be long until—

“He’s a menace.” Tarnec looked up and found Nurav, moving swiftly through the hall.

“Yes, he is,” Tarnec agreed.

“Haskoh was soft on him. The boy loved nothing more than to torment the fool with quips and disobedience. He gains satisfaction from it. We cannot have that behaviour.”

Tarnec shrugged. “Then kill him.”

Nurav made a dissatisfied noise from beneath their cowl.

“He isn’t some concubine we can dispose of when we’re dissatisfied. He’s political. Voltron brings hope to thousands of civilizations just outside our grasp. As Voltron rose, so did the frequency of rebellions in the empire. He gives us a way to combat that.”

“Well, now, he’s only showing resource administrators that Zarkon can’t even handle a half-starved, human boy! I’m an officer and a noble, and I’m spending half of my time looking after him. This can’t continue. I don’t care what you do to him. Just make him shut up.”

“Yes, Lord Tarnec,” Nurav crooned, nodding as the galra turned and left.

Nurav turned and walked into the room. The paladin sat up from where he had been curled up on the floor. He was covered in bruises from encounters with various officials. He shivered once, wrapping his arms around his bruised chest

“Cold, paladin?” Nurav, strode to the room’s control panel, opening it and lowering the temperature in the room. Nurav looked at the paladin. Already he was more bloodied and bruised than he’d been even with Haskoh.

“Just like your heart, Nurry-baby,” he slurred through swollen lips. Nurav hissed and crossed the small room in a flash, wrapping the cold fingers of one hand around the paladin’s throat. They pulled him up off the ground, feeling him choke. His hands scrabbled at Nurav’s wrist as they pulled him in and hissed in his ear, cold air raising goosebumps as it hit against the shell of his ear.

“You are fragile, paladin. It would do well for you to not anger those more powerful than you.” Nurav lifted him up and threw him back against the wall. He collided with a thud and slid to the ground, unconscious. Nurav sighed. “Tomorrow I will discipline you properly. You will not continue to create trouble on this ship.”

 

* * *

 

Shiro found Pidge in the bridge two hours after dinner. He sighed. It had been a while since he had really checked in with her. He felt guilty. His team was falling apart yet he couldn’t bring himself to help them. He shook himself and entered the room. When she didn’t look up at the swish of the metal doors, he knocked on the wall and she jumped, whirling around to glare at him.

“Sorry, Pidge,” Shiro said with a small smile.

“What’s up, Shiro?” She asked quickly, turning back to her computer.

“What are you working on?” He asked, settling in beside her on the floor.

“I’m setting up a transmission feed. I’ll install it once we get onto the ship. It’ll show us anything on a wavelength that tries to move in or out of the ship while we’re there.” She looked up a Shiro, taking in his blank smile. She sighed. “It’s a wiretap without wires. Coran can listen in and give us some warning if they call for backup or plan to self-destruct the ship.”

“That’s great, Pidge,” Shiro said, genuinely impressed. “That’ll be really useful.”

“It’s also a reusable program, so I can put it on any ship I hack.” Shiro reached out and ruffled her hair.

“It really is incredible, Pidge.”

“Thanks…” He rested a hand on her shoulder. She sighed. And looked at Shiro. “Hey, Shiro?”

“Yeah, Pidge?”

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do right now with the whole ‘morale boosting affection’ thing, but are you sure I’m the one who needs it?” Shiro’s hand slipped from her shoulder and Pidge clenched her jaw. “You realize that _he’s_ probably having the hardest time out of all of us, right? He and Lance were just getting close, something Keith had wanted for a while, and now Lance is gone, and— as if that weren’t enough—his entire life just _changed_. He flushes purple, his ears twitch, and he spends hours in the bathroom tiring himself out trying to hold his original skin tone—even though Allura told him not to— only to turn violet with frustration. Keith needs you, Shiro. You’re his anchor.”

“Pidge, I… I didn’t even know—“

“Of course you didn’t! He’s doing his best to hide it from us. None of us are falling apart in public! _Fuck_ , Takashi. You of all people should know when Keith is breaking down. I don’t care what he did or what he said. We all know he says things he doesn’t mean when he’s stressed, and he’s stressed out of his goddamn mind right now. _I’m_ not the person you should be worrying about right now. I’m the least messed up right now.” They were both quiet. She sighed. “I need to finish this—“

“Pidge—“

“Well don’t talk to _me_ about it. Honestly, Shiro.” She picked up her headphones, plugging them into her computer and settling them over her ears. Shiro took that as his cue and left. He checked the training deck first, surprised to find Allura, who paused her training sequence and came over to talk to him.

“Shiro? What’s wrong, you look…”

“Like a teenage girl just told me off?”

“Oh… Well, now that you say so, yes.”

“Yeah, Pidge…" he shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Have you seen Keith?”

“He left when I came in…” Allura said, looking down and wiping at a scuff on her armor. Shiro gave her a soft smile.

“Thank you, princess. Make sure you get some rest.” He left, going to Keith’s bedroom. He raised his hand to knock, then stopped, hearing voices from inside. He sighed, lowering his hand, and turned to leave. He could come back later—

The door opened, and [Hunk](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10628745) was staring at him.

“You wanna come in Shiro? I was just about to head out.”

“Oh, um—“ Hunk gave Shiro a pointed look and Shiro flinched. Apparently the younger trio had banded together around Keith in his time of need, while he had tried to carry on as normal. He took a breath. “Yes, I wanted to talk with Keith.” Hunk gave him a smile that somehow felt hostile and stepped out of the room.

“I’ll see you in the morning buddy,” he said into the room. “Good night, Shiro.”

Shiro stepped into the bedroom and found Keith seated on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, hands clenched together. He seemed less purple than earlier. He wondered if it was the thing Pidge had talked about. It made Shiro feel guilty. Keith was trying to be less galra just to be around him. He took a chance and went to sit beside Keith on the bed. He mirrored Keith’s posture, leaning forwards, and gently tugged one of Keith’s hands into his own. They hadn’t held hands since they were kids.

“It has been brought to my attention that I’ve been neglecting you.” Shiro felt Keith’s hand twitch. “I want to tell you how sorry I am. I didn’t stop to consider that the intensity of the past few weeks would be so much for you, and now that I’m thinking about it, you really should have yelled at me a lot sooner. I’m sorry about the med bay. I was worried about you but I showed it entirely wrong.” He squeezed Keith’s hand and, after a long moment, felt the other boy squeeze back. He sighed, releasing Keith’s hand and pulling him in for a hug. “You can always talk to me, Keith.  Even if you think it’s something I don’t want to hear.”

“Even if it’s about the team?”

“Especially if it’s about the team.” Keith drew out of the hug and looked at Shiro. “I want us to talk about Allura. Something is off, I can tell. _Red_ can tell.”

“Your lion wants you to be wary of another lion’s paladin?”

“I don’t think Blue actually trusts Allura. I think she just wants Lance back and knows that Allura can do that.”

“Well, that was our reasoning too.”

“But I don’t know if it was Allura’s.” They were both silent. Shiro sighed, standing up.

“Well, if we’re lucky, tomorrow we’ll have Lance back and we won’t even have to worry about who’s the blue paladin.”

“But he might not even be ready to pilot when he gets back! And what about the fact that Allura was piloting Blue? We have no idea what he’ll think about that, but it probably won’t be good—“

“Those are questions for later, Keith. Tonight, let’s just worry about the mission.” Keith sighed and nodded.

"Fine. Have a good night, Shiro. Try to get some sleep.”

“You too, Keith.”

 

* * *

 

It was the middle of the night when Nurav opened the door to the cold holding cell. They moved silently into the room, unnoticed to the paladin. He was shivering on the floor, the threadbare blanket pulled tight around his back. Even through the material of the blanket, the bumps of his spine were noticeable. Nurav tutted to themself.

They could could have built such a wonder from the paladin. Greater than the Champion ever was, someone headstrong and sure, willing to fight. Haggar would have been proud. Then again, as Nurav, came to stand over the boy, skinny, chattering teeth, dried blood and tear tracks crusted on his face, it seemed improbable that he would be anything more than what he was here: a plaything for galra officials.

Nurav leaned down and pressed a hand to the boy’s temples.

“Time for fun, Rashtan,” they crooned, probing into the sleeping boy’s mind. Nurav pressed a hand into the boy’s chest, rolling him onto his back and holding him in place. He winced in his sleep as the heat of the druid’s energy pressed into his mind. Nurav chuckled, pressing deeper into the boy’s subconscious, the flickering images of sleep and the fleeting memories of the humid blue place Nurav had found before. They pushed deeper, grabbing moments and memories from the boy’s subconscious. Times when he was disruptive, over-exuberant, and contentious—Nurav pressed these smaller, practically non-existent, into the corners of his mind.

When they were done, Nurav leaned back, calmly looking the paladin over before hitting him across the face. He startled awake, eyes frantic and heart stuttering beneath Nurav’s hand. But when the boy looked at Nurav, none of the usual hatred or vitriol swelled in his eyes. He shrank back, turning still and wary. Nurav smiled.

“Remember, pet—“ the druid said, sending a spike of energy into the boy’s mind. He choked on air, eyes bulging from his sunken face. They pulled up recent memories of punishments the boy had received from galra officials, taking him slowly through the slicing claws and raining blows. “It is best not to anger those more powerful than you; myself included.”

Nurav withdrew, leaving the boy to writhe on the floor, whimpering and clutching his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Keith & Hunk Outtake from the chapter can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10628745/) !
> 
> Ok so. Planning.
> 
> I originally wanted to do an Allura outtake for this week, but when I started writing her and her mom I realized this was something I could turn into a longer fic. Would that something people would be interested in? Allura's mom isn't yet a cannon character, but Young Allura, the blue lion, Coran, Alfor, all of these are thing I'd be interested in exploring if y'all wanted. Shoot me a message on my blog about what you think!
> 
> Also, until the end of Act 1, I'll be posting any outtakes on my [tumblr](https://profoundprincessface.tumblr.com/) on Wednesday nights, just so I can get the rest of Act 1 up and published for y'all. They'll make it onto Ao3, but irregularly.
> 
> Also! Don't be afraid to tell me ideas and such in the comments! some things folks have shown interest in have made it into Chapter 11 or planned outtakes! I Adore y'all's ideas. Give them all to me.
> 
> Leave comments! and Kudos! Validate me! Please!
> 
> (much needed) hugs from space  
> ~Tay


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my darlings.
> 
> Another difficult chapter this week. 
> 
> This chapter is where we earned the Graphic Depictions tag, but this is the last bit of violence for a while.
> 
> This is violence related to (another) predatory situation. To skip over it, hop down to the end note and see where to stop. There's also an asterisk in the body of the text. skip from there to the beginning of the next section. You'll get what's plot relevant without all of the bad.
> 
> This chapter is also super long! Almost 5000 words!
> 
> Same rules as usual: tell me if there are any trigger/content warnings I need to add.
> 
> Continue to comment and kudos! I adore every one!
> 
> hugs from space,  
> ~Tay
> 
> Update: The link to the outtake from this chapter is now embedded in the text as well as in the end note!

It was day five with Zarkon and Lance finally knelt quietly in meetings. Not for the reasons the official thought—that he had finally accepted his role in their society—but because he had finally found a purpose for himself.

During his third meeting, some council on empire resources, he had heard them listing Balmeran crystals in storage. He’d recognized the terminology and had followed the conversation, if only for something to do. But then, they shifted from talking about the crystals they had to listing unconquered Balmeras. Lance felt his heart stop. There were free Balmerans living all over the galaxy. Other civilizations like Shay’s. Ones that the Galra hadn’t, but intended to, conquer. His blood ran cold. How many planets were on the list of “not yet”? Was their galaxy next? Was Earth?

From then on, he had listened intently. He memorized galaxies and planets that the Galra were about to make a play for. He wove the names and numbers into songs and rhymes, anything to hold them in his head until he escaped.

He tried not to fight the officials in the room, no matter how they provoked him. He refused to play their sick games of power—eating food scraps thrown at him, allowing himself to be groped and stroked—and that brought enough punishment on its own. He didn’t need additional beatings for lunging at a general or running his mouth. Nurav and Tarnec had thoroughly educated him on how unappreciated his comments were. His nerves were still raw from the druid’s ‘lesson.’ That wasn’t a mistake he would be making anytime soon. Not now that he had a mission.

This meeting seemed to be about some large upcoming event, a meeting of a war council of some sort, and every official in the room made Lance nervous. He did his best to keep still, but it was hard. The other day he took a nasty hit to the leg from a general and it was hard to stay kneeling. He wondered if one of his bones was broken; but, if his creaking ribs and the many cuts littering his body were any indication, they had no interest in treating his wounds. He took a deep, pained, breath and tried shifting his weight, wincing as he did so. He listened harder, focusing on the proceedings to distract himself from his pains.

At Zarkon’s right hand there was a square-jawed Galra official watching Lance, his gaze somewhere between a glare and a leer. Lance glared in return and the Galra smirked. Lance winced through another steadying breath and returned his attention to the conversation. something about an under-serviced workstation.

“Unfortunately, the prison closest to my work planet has been emptied,” an official stated with a growl at Lance. “This means that, between communications and transport, it takes twice as long to replace workers. For this reason, production has slowed.”

“While discussing work planets,” the square-jawed galra purred, “Jakar, did you not send two other humans to a work planet in KBeta-7? How do they fare? Would our _honored guest_ fare as well?”

A number of the Galra around the table laughed, but Lance felt his heart stop.

“Well, KBeta-7 is almost entirely fuel planets. It is gentle work. Even so, the humans fare poorly,” said a different galra, assumedly Jakar. “HN-6 has a magnificent atmosphere for their kind, yet they are terrible workers. Were it not for their rarity, they would be long dead.” Again, the laughter rumbled through the room.

Lance’s hands were shaking in his cuffs. He couldn’t breathe. He knew where they were. He had a galaxy and planet. That was closer than they had ever been.

“And our paladin?” The square jawed galra stood from his seat, crossing behind Zarkon, who was smirking in his chair, taking in the whole scene. He knelt beside Lance and took his jaw in his hand, pointing his face at the galra named Jakar. “I assume he has a body just as weak?” Jakar smirked.

“Possibly even weaker. He is younger than both of mine, and skinnier.” Lance furrowed his brow and jerked his face away from the galra holding him, not caring as their claws scratched along his jaw.

“Ah, but I doubt yours had our little paladin’s fight.” He grabbed Lance by the back of the collar, pulling him back against him. “Like an unbroken concubine, he is: always snapping and snarling.” Lance struggled to breathe. His eyes darted around the room: everyone looked amused, openly leering at Lance’s form as he shivered against the galra’s broad chest. He leaned in close, breath ghosting against Lance’s ear. “I bet you would be a welcome comfort at night, paladin,” he whispered. Lance tried to jerk away, much to the amusement of those in the room, but only succeeded in choking himself against his collar. The galra at Zarkon’s left hand, closest to Lance where he knelt on the floor, smirked.

“Now Kaecar, you’re turning the thing into a distraction. Surely you can be away from your own prize for a day without needing to take someone else’s.” Kaecar chuckled, leaning in and sniffing at Lance’s pulse point. Lance closed his eyes and tried to focus on the information he had just heard. It was too important. He couldn’t get distracted by wandering glances and claws.

“Maken, we all know there’s no warmth in a Thrucian. Not like humans, warm and soft all over, even when they’re skin and bones.”

“Kaecar,” the one call Maken snapped. “Now is not the time. Besides, his majesty forbids it. You’ll have to wait until Atavan.” He turned to the table, “If I can refocus our attention to resource management, there are still shortages that must be addressed before we go to Atavan. Admiral Geer has been uncouth and rebellious, even threatening to leave the empire with all of his holdings. We must prove to the council at Atavan that there is no stronger position than within the empire."

While Maken spoke, Kaecar continued to smell and pet Lance. Lance was frozen in place. If he jerked too hard, the collar would shock him, he would be paralyzed again, and who knew what Kaecar would do if he was immobile. He took deep breaths and worked his way through his song—coordinates, planets, uninhabited galaxies—until finally Kaecar sighed against his neck. The galra breathed against his ear.

“I have business to attend to, pet,” he whispered. Lance fought not to gag as Kaecar ground against his back. “But fear not, I certainly won’t forget about you.” He quickly took Lance’s earlobe into his mouth and bit through the center of it. Lance cried out, flinching away from Kaecar and feeling the lobe tear around the galra’s fangs. Kaecar chuckled, licking a fleck of blood from his lips as he returned to his seat. Lance let himself fall forward, clutching at his bleeding ear as best he could with his bound hands. Somewhere behind him, Tarnec gave a warning tug on his lead. Lance sat up slowly, choking back tears. He kept repeating the coordinates to himself as he looked at his hands, red with his own blood. He glared over at Kaecar, who smirked down at him. *******

 ******* At the end of the meeting, Lance walked behind Zarkon and his entourage from the meeting room to the emperor’s own quarters. The others saluted and Lance kneeled at the door as the emperor left to meet with his private advisors. He struggled to return to his feet afterwards, and Tarnec shocked him once for his slowness. Tarnec removed his cuffs as usual and pushed Lance into his holding room, promising to return, and left Lance alone.

He had barely crawled to the corner where his blanket was before the door opened again. Lance turned to glare at Tarnec as he entered, and felt his heart stop. Kaecar was walking slowly into the room, unaccompanied. Despite constantly allowing others to take the reins in Lance’s punishments, Tarnec had always been in the room while it happened. In a strange way, Lance trusted Tarnec, if only for his complete and utter disinterest in Lance.

“Hello again, paladin,” Kaecar said with a smile. Lance suddenly wished he were standing; he felt too vulnerable on the floor.

“You aren’t allowed to touch me. Zarkon says so, Tarnec won’t—“

“Won’t be interrupting us. And worry not, little blue.” Kaecar’s smile dropped off of his face. “I am well aware of the rules.” He rushed at Lance, pulling him up by a wrist, and holding him off the ground. “But I _am_ allowed to touch you, paladin.” He slammed Lance back against the wall and pinned him with his body. He leaned down and sniffed the side of Lance’s head, looking at the bloodstains from his mangled ear. “And honestly, do you think you’re in any position to tell me what to do?” he snarled.

Lance struggled uselessly, squirming, twisting his wrist in Kaecar’s giant hand, anything to get free. Kaecar chuckled.

“How utterly pitiful. A paladin of Voltron, now little more than a plaything.”

Lance saw red, snarling at Kaecar. He saw the galra’s leering eyes, heard the rumbling laugh, and acted, spitting in Kaecar’s face. Lance had a moment of satisfaction as the smug smile dropped from his face, and then he was falling. He landed on the ground in a heap, crying out as his bad leg struck the floor, and looked up at Kaecar, who was gazing down at him icily.

“You’ll regret that, pet.” Kaecar said, drawing back. He surged forwards, kicking Lance in the side with a booted foot, sending him sliding across the floor. He tried to crawl away, but Kaecar grabbed him by a leg and pulled him back. He straddled Lance, sitting on his chest to hold him still. He struck Lance twice in the face, then pinned him with a hand to his throat. Kaecar beat him until he was dizzy and bloodied, occasionally stepping back, playing like Lance could get away, only to pounce again. With Lance’s every groan and scream, Kaecar only grew more excited, more zealous. At one point, he had Lance beneath him on the floor, his body pressed tight against the heat of Kaecar’s. He pulled Lance’s body back, holding him down with one hand on the side of his head and another gripping his thigh. Kaecar pulled Lance’s hips up and back, gripping so tightly that three of his claws plunged deep into the flesh of his thigh, tearing his uniform and quickly staining the thin material with blood. He curled around Lance, once again biting the already mangled ear, as he raked his claws down the side of Lance’s leg. He screamed as his flesh tore, practically blacking out from the pain. Kaecar drew back, Lance’s blood dripping from his mouth.

“If I cannot claim you, I will, at the very least, mark you as my own,” Kaecar growled before sinking his fangs deep into Lance’s shoulder. Lance screamed and tried in vain to get away. Kaecar scowled. “Obviously, you will not learn,” he said, restarting the rain of blows to Lance’s body. Lance did his best to still beneath Kaecar, to make himself submissive in hopes that he wouldn’t die beneath the galra’s bulk. Kaecar taunted him, whispering filth in his ear and clawing at him. The abuse continued for long minutes before Lance felt a pause. He struggled to turn his swollen face towards the door and saw Tarnec, looking disapprovingly at Kaecar. Kaecar was sitting on Lance’s hips pinning him on his stomach, holding his face to the floor with a clawed hand on the back of his head and another around his neck.

“We try not to damage his face, Kaecar.”

“Then he should _try_ not to spit in mine,” Kaeca growled.

“Tarnec—“ Lance rasped. Kaecar shoved his head into the floor.

“Silence,” Kaecar hissed, tightening his grip on Lance’s neck.

“Kaecar, We cannot damage him too badly before the council at Atavan.”

“Tarnec, I am not done with him—“

“Then you should not have gotten distracted. I have to take him to Nurav. You should leave.” Kaecar didn’t move. “He isn’t going anywhere, Kaecar. You will have other opportunities to sate yourself.” Kaecar growled, but, with one last shove, he got off of Lance and left the room. [Tarnec](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10646238) made an approving sound, following him out, leaving Lance bleeding on the floor.

 

* * *

 

“We will Enter MGH-7 in one minute,” Coran said through the comm system. “Ready yourselves for takeoff.”

“Everyone stay focused. We have a plan. We need to stick to it. Keith, Pidge, and I are heading in. Hunk, Allura, listen to Coran. He’ll be your intel.” Shiro said through the comms. Coran buzzed in over him—

“Entering in five, four, three, two— warp complete. Begin attack.”

The five lions burst out of the castle, soaring through space towards the base. They were within range in seconds. They tore through the base’s first line of defense in moments, and formed Voltron to take on the next battalion as it came.

Voltron was vicious in its attack, the stress and tension so palpable within the team’s mental link poured out with every strike and every hit. They moved like one weapon, steadily getting closer to the base. They split back into their lions and Hunk and Allura set about rounding up the last of the small battleships. PIdge, Keith and Shiro fought their way into the ship’s open docking bay and parked their lions there. It was a central location and nothing would be able to move their lions within their shields. The lions would be able to break out of the ship no matter what, it was just a matter of them getting back to the hold at the end of the mission.

They all exited their lions. Keith drew his bayard as he, Pidge, and Shiro made their way to the main exit.

“Hunk, Allura, we’re in,” Shiro said. “Once we get into the main ship, Pidge will set up the transmission link. Coran will get that info. Let us know if you need help.”

“Yes, Shiro,” Allura said, echoed by Hunk.

A hush fell over the group. Keith and Pidge looked back at Shiro, waiting for his signal. He nodded and they set forth, exiting the hangar. The snuck down the halls, dodging sentry groups as they ran through the halls. They managed to get to the main level of the base without alerting the guards to their presence, at which point Pidge began to search for a control panel.

“Found one. Setting up link and hacking maps,” she said. Keith and Shiro waited silently while she tapped away at the console. “Coran, let me know when you can see the feed.” She said, continuing to type.

“I have their transmission history and a log of current ones. You’re all in the clear so far.”

“Ok. Finding a map of the facility— got it. We’ll need the service elevator on the far side of the base. General’s quarters are on the fourth floor, as are priority holding cells. Lance might be there. but we’ll need Haskoh or one of the official guards to get in. I don’t know if—“

“We’ll figure it out when we get there, Pidge. Let’s move.” Shiro said. “Keith, you’re in front. Anything that moves: take it out.”

“Yes, Shiro.”

They ran then, tearing through the halls to get to the service elevator. They barely stopped for guards, quickly taking out the groups that came after them. in under five minutes they had crossed to the service elevator. Shiro pressed his galra hand to it, only to have nothing happen.

“Pidge, I need you to hack it.”

“On it.” Pidge ducked forwards, taking control of the console.

“Shiro, incoming on the right!” Keith said, turning towards the end of the hall.

“Let them come to us. We can’t get separated.” Keith nodded, taking a defensive stance in front of Pidge. Shiro activated his arm.

“Almost done—“

“It’s okay, Pidge. Keep working.”

The guards shouted something at them in Galra, before charging at the group. Keith slashed through one with his sword before whirling on another. Shiro disarmed one, taking their blaster and turning it on the rest of the group. He shot two of the galra in the legs, slowing them down for Keith.

“Shiro!” Pidge screamed from behind them, slashing desperately at two galra with her bayard. Shiro blasted one and they fell backwards. Suddenly, Keith burst past him, coming at the other galra with his sword. Shiro turned back to the remaining galra in the hall, rushing at them with his arm fully activated..

“We’ve got the elevator!” Keith yelled, just as Shiro knocked the last galra unconscious, sending them to the ground. He ran to the wall, throwing himself into the elevator as it came. It slid closed and the lights at the floor lit up, bathing him, Keith, and Pidge in fluorescent blue. They were all panting.

“I’m sorry I screamed,” Pidge whispered. “I panicked, I was stuck to the wall because of the wire and—“

“It’s okay, Pidge,” Keith said between breaths. “That’s why we’re here. To protect each other.” Pidge nodded, looking down at her hands.

“Ok. Let’s go get our friend.” Shiro said.

They came out on the fourth floor into an empty hallway.

“Pidge aren’t there supposed to be cells, here?” Keith whispered. Pidge pulled up the map on her arm console.

“According to this, there are,” she said, confused. The went to the wall, checking her map. “There should be a door right here.”

“Well, it won’t do us any good to get stuck on this now,” Shiro said. “Let’s find Haskoh. The doors will be his problem.”

They followed Pidge through the halls to the command room of the ship. They took out the guards and burst through the doors. The room clear except for one galra official at a control console. He turned around, fixing his yellow eyes on them and leapt out of his chair.

“Paladins, to what do I owe the honor,” he growled, hand twitching towards a console.

“You don’t want to do that,” Shiro said, voice threatening. The galra fixed his eyes on them, the glowing arm, the active bayards, and clenched his hands at his sides. Shiro motioned to Keith, who moved on the general, pulling him away from the consoles and into the center of the room. Pidge moved to the console behind them, hooked herself in, and began typing.

“What does Voltron want with my base?” The general said, voice level.

“Are you Haskoh?” Keith asked, pressing the flat of his sword against the galra’s chest.

“Haskoh no longer controls this region.” The galra said.

“Then who does?” Shiro snarled.

“Haskoh has not returned from Lord Zarkon’s ship. I was sent here to take over his jurisdiction.”

“Well, what about his prisoners? Where are they being kept.” Keith snapped. The galra chuckled darkly.

“You look for the paladin.”

“Where is he!” Keith yelled, moving his sword up to the galra’s throat.

“Keith, easy,” Shiro said, stepping forward. He turned to the galra. “We came for our friend, and we aren’t leaving without him.” Just then, their comms buzzed.

“Shiro, Keith, Pidge, you all need to retreat. There are forces incoming,” Coran warned.

“We’re not leaving without Lance,” Keith said.

“Then you will sorely disappointed, halfling.” The galra smirked as Keith’s scowl deepened. “Your friend is no longer here.”

“Then where is he!”

“Keith, calm down—“

“Guys.” Pidge breathed.

“Tell me where Lance is!” Keith yelled, turning the general around and forcing him against the wall.

“ _Guys_.” Pidge said, close to tears.

“What, Pidge?” Keith snapped. The comms buzzed.

“Are you three heading back at your lions—“ Allura panted.

“Hold on, princess.” Shiro said, helping Keith detain the general. “We’re bringing a general back with us.

“We don’t need him.”

“Pidge, he’s the only one who knows where Lance is—“

“I know where Lance is.” The room stopped.

“What?” Keith breathed.

“I saw him, on the transmission feed—“

“Paladins, you need to get off of that ship!”

“Pidge, you better be right,” Shiro said. “Keith, leave him. We’ve gotta move.”

 

* * *

 

It was the middle of the night, more than a day after the incident with Kaecar when Lance heard the door to his cell open.

“Tarnec?” Lance rasped. His throat was dry. He’d spent the whole day with the muzzle on while he was toted in and out of meetings and he was dehydrated. He squinted. Something was moving in the shadows. He pulled himself back with shaking arms. “Tarnec, what’s going on—“ he stopped, flinching as a cold hand stroked the side of his face.

“Unfortunately, Lord Tarnec is sleeping _very_ soundly, paladin.”

“Nurav.” Lance breathed with a shudder.

“Tonight is for me, paladin,” Nurav purred, their fingers sliding up into Lance’s short hair. They gripped it suddenly and Lance groaned. “And I have been sent to do something very special for you. You see, my advisor thinks that you have been stealing information from us. Zarkon has been foolish, too focused on showing you off and not enough on training you properly. We all know you aren’t going anywhere —your friends have forgotten you, even as you refuse to let go of them— but just in case...“ Nurav brought their other hand to the side of Lance’s head, holding him still as he tried to struggle away.

“Please, leave me alone—what more could you _want_ from me—“

“I want you to forget,” Nurav said.

Lance gelt the urge to vomit. What he’d done was too important— he had found Pidge’s family. He couldn’t let Nurav take that. He jerked himself away, swinging an arm up to hit at the druid, who ghosted out of reach and back in a second.

“Come now, boy, don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” Nurav said, striking Lance across the face. The back of his head hit against the wall and stars swam in front of his eyes. “I need you ready for the Atavan Transmission. You must stand by Lord Zarkon’s side and we can’t have any problems, Rashtan. You should be docile. Empty. The perfect trophy for a king.”

“I’m not a prize,” he whimpered.

“No, not yet,” Nurav said, regaining a hold on Lance’s head.

Lance filled his mind with the beach in Cuba. Of the ocean. Of his sisters and the twins. He heard his mother whispering rosary prayers. His father humming boleros. He saw the castle. Saw Hunk’s smile and Keith’s eyes and Allura’s snow white hair. He heard Pidge’s laugh, Coran’s stories, Blue’s comforting rumble. He had to protect them. Protect the castle, the lions—

Then came the heat. The fingers. The prying and the pain. And then nothing.

 

* * *

 

 _“And as we move to Atavan for the meeting of the grand council, we prepare this empire to expand. Our reach shall be limitless and our reign eternal!”_ Zarkon shouted. Through the transmission, team Voltron heard the chorus of ‘Vrepit Sa’ that followed. The camera moved out, showing a row of saluting generals and officials, looking towards their leader. And on display, thin and haggard, was someone who looked impossibly like—

“Lance?” Hunk gasped.

He was bent over, bowing to Zarkon, who looked down on him smugly. Lance rose slowly out of the bow and looked up at Zarkon, eyes completely devoid of emotion. When he straightened up, they saw the condition he was in. He was practically unrecognizable. His face was bruised, one of his eyes practically swollen shut. It looked like his nose was broken. His mouth and chin were covered by a grey muzzle that made Shiro want to gag. The team watched, horrified, as he was led offscreen by a lead going from a collar around his neck to Zarkon’s own hand. He was handed off to another galra official, who tugged him into motion. He was limping, all of his movements ginger as he struggled to keep up with the entourage of galra.

“Turn it off.” Shiro whispered. Allura placed a hand on the console, and the holoscreen disappeared. The bridge was silent. No one knew what to say.

“Pidge, how did you even—I mean—,“ Hunk started.

“I was stealing Lance’s file. There was a folder of just footage and information about him; and when I finished, I checked the transmission feed to make sure it was working. It was incoming on the feed and…” Shiro nodded.

“Why was Lance even there?” Keith asked quietly. “What was he doing on a _leash_ behind Zarkon— I don’t— it’s not—That’s just sick.”

“That’s the trophy tradition so common in their empire,” Allura said emotionlessly.

“But what’s going to happen to him? What’s happened to him already—”

“Keith, I’m not sure if we want to know,” Shiro said. “We all know that the galra are twisted. We don’t want to know the details.”

“But Lance is our friend—”

“Which is a better reason not to pry into this. When we get him back, Lance is already going to be affected by every terrible thing that happened to him while he was gone. He doesn’t need us affected by that too.” Shiro said. He looked around the bridge, fixing each of them with a serious look. “This isn’t ours to know. Not yet.” He turned to Pidge. “Pidge, you said you found Lance’s file on that ship. Did you look at any of the footage or information inside.”

“Not the footage. I just looked at the file enough to know it was for a human prisoner. There was a medical something-or-other. Nutrition stuff.” Shiro nodded.

“I want you to lock the file on all devices until we have Lance back. It’s better that way. Knowing won’t help us find him, it’ll just make his absence harder than it’s been already.”

“Yes, Shiro,” Pidge said. The bridge was silent as Pidge crossed to the console. “Shiro, do you want to…” she said, gesturing to the screen. Shiro crossed to her and input a password, officially locking the file away.

“We need a new plan,” Shiro said, slipping into leader-mode. “Allura, I want everything you know about Atavan and everything you can figure out about the meeting happening there. Pidge, I need you to trace that video back to the source. We’re going to find that ship and save our friend. Hunk, Keith and I will help you with any repairs that need to happen on the lions. Coran, while we’re idling, prep the medical bay. We don’t know what Lance will need. We have to get Lance before he gets to wherever the hell Atavan is.”

 

* * *

 

Lance was exhausted. He hadn’t slept properly in days thanks to Nurav’s frequent visits. The druid came and whispered to him, told him lies about abandonment and how utterly unnecessary he must have been for the others to have left him here. Whenever he would deny it, try to stop Nurav, anything, the druid would call back the memories of punishments. Of Kaecar’s claws ripping into his leg, Jarax’s hand on his neck, or the many other nameless faces who hit and bit and tore at him.

His mind was a fog. He could tell that Nurav had been tampering with him in unknown ways. The more he tried to fight it, the more he seemed to lose. But there were things he needed to protect. People he needed to protect. He knew he would likely never see earth again, so who did it hurt if he let Nurav steal his oceans, or a sandcastle with his sister. There were thousands of lives he could save with the information he stole once… if the others came for him.

He had tried so hard to have faith. He loved his friends, and he would protect them with all he was… But why did they leave him here? Were they truly better off without him? Had he been replaced? Were they even looking for him? Maybe Jarax was right, and it was better he was gone. Even when he was with Haskoh he’d had trouble believing he would be rescued, but now? It was practically impossible. They had barely survived saving Allura from Zarkon when she had been taken. Now, he spent his days on Zarkon’s arm. He was a fixture in the emperor’s day. How would he ever go home?

He pulled his blanket tighter around himself and rolled onto his back. The ceiling was just as blank as it had been the last few days, but he gazed at it anyways. He closed his eyes and took a catalog of his memories. He had parts of his grandmother’s house. His oldest sister’s smile. The other one’s freckles during the month of July. Sand, but no water. _Dios te salve, María. Llena eres de gracia: El Señor es contigo_ … _El Señor es contigo_ — _bendito es el fruto de... Contigo?_

He still had the castle. Had Blue and her comforting rumbles. Had the mice and food goo. There was Coran and his stories about Altea. Hunk’s hugs. Pidge’s glare. Keith’s smirk. He felt the sting of tears in the back of his eyes and sighed. At this point, he felt like his body was wasting water, but yet the tears came. He prayed, whispering aloud into the room, hoping that his wound wouldn’t get infected. That Nurav would leave him alone. That Tarnec could protect him. That maybe he wouldn’t wake up in the morning. That maybe the others would find him and take him home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skip guide:
> 
> Stop at: "He glared over at Kaecar, who smirked down at him."  
> There's also asterisks at the end of that paragraph and the beginning of the following one.
> 
> Visit me on [tumblr](https://profoundprincessface.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> The Outtake from the chapter can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10646238) !
> 
> xoxo  
> Tay


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey loves. 
> 
> This is the end of Act 1! We made it!
> 
> This chapter is 4500+ words, but I'm pretty sure Act 2 will see us heading back into the 3500s, so enjoy your 100 word bonus.
> 
> Another poorly written fight scene ahead. Sorry not sorry.
> 
> About posting:  
> I'm going on hiatus for a little bit to finish school stuff and get some headway on Act 2. Details about that will be on my [tumblr](https://profoundprincessface.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> Also, please send me any idea/theories/ rants! I love them all.
> 
> As usual, let me know about any trigger/content warnings that are needed.
> 
> Happy reading!  
> ~Tay

“Judging from the transmission’s point of origin,” Pidge said, pulling up a map on a holoscreen in the bridge, “and considering where Atavan is, it’ll be five days before Zarkon gets to Atavan. Atavan is parsecs away from their last recorded location. Considering what limited information we have on his ship, not even Zarkon can navigate that instantaneously. Especially not if they’re still being powered by—”

“Pidge. Focus,” Shiro said. “What does this mean for us and Lance. Can we get to him?”  Pidge looked uncertain, but continued on.

“Because Atavan is in a far corner of the Galra empire, Zarkon can take a direct route across his own territories and get there. We got lucky that Atavan is only a three day’s journey from our current location. Unfortunately, we have to cut through Galra controlled regions to get there. And even then we have to deal with the mass of galra generals and lords and stuff who will be on Atavan. Even if we make it there, I don’t know how we’d get to Lance. Not if he’ll be at Zarkon’s side.”

“Then we don’t go to Atavan,” Keith said.

“What?” Hunk said, whirling on the red paladin. “Keith, if we let Lance get to that war council, there’s no telling what will happen to him. We can’t—”

“The five of us barely survive against Zarkon by himself, there’s no way we can go against him and half the empire.” Keith said, “If we’re going to get Lance, we have to do it before he arrives at Atavan. We need to intercept Zarkon’s ship and somehow get on board.”

“Keith, this won’t be like a prison ship,” Allura said carefully. “Zarkon travels with an entourage. He will be well defended.”

“And he’ll be even better defended on Atavan. We need to do this while he’s still en route. Hunk’s right. We don’t know  _ what _ could happen to Lance at Atavan. He already looks like he’s been starved half to death and he’s obviously injured.” Keith looked helplessly around the room. “Guys, this may be our only chance to save him. He might not come back from there.”

The room was quiet, still, as Keith’s words sunk in. The first glance they’d had of Lance since he’d gone missing could have easily been their last. 

 

* * *

 

Tarnec came for him that morning, as usual. They came with an attendant, who brought food and water and re-dressed the bandages around the wound Kaecar created. Despite keeping them covered, Lance feared once again that he would get an infection. The wound felt hot beneath the gauze and he was thirstier than normal. When the attendant left, Tarnec pulled him onto his feet and re-established the electromagnetic link between his collar and his arm. Tarnec shook his head, muttering to himself in Galra. He only picked up a few words— pity, weak, unfortunate—ones he had heard before. Tarnec held him at arm’s length, sighing again.

“Look what you have reduced me to,” he said quietly. “With my standing I should have a prize of my own with his own keeper. Instead, I manage you for the emperor like some peon.” Tarnec looked at him, snapping clawed fingers in front of his face. He flinched and Tarnec sighed again. “What a waste. That witch’s dog Nurav has you empty already. Then again, Lord Zarkon wants you pliant for Atavan.” Tarnec ran a single finger over the bruises along the side of his face. “Oh, the fun you’ll have in Atavan, pet. There, the real work begins.” 

He did his best not to shudder at Tarnec’s reverent tone and wandering eyes. Tarnec had alway been gentle, or at least gentler, with him. Had protected him for Kaecar and other who threatened him with assault and humiliation. He needed someone he could trust, even if it was just for the pity in their eyes.

Tarnec led him from the room and up through the ship to the throne room, where Zarkon was waiting for him with Nurav and Haggar. He was walked to the center of the room. He bit his lip to keep from crying out as he was pushed to his knees. Zarkon rose out of his chair and walked down to stand in front of him, blanketing him with his broad shadow.

“Your performance during the transmission was well met, paladin,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m glad we’ve had no more disruptions from you. Nurav and Tarnec have trained you well. There is one last performance waiting for you in Atavan. Then, you shall be  _ restored _ .” Zarkon knelt down, grabbing Lance’s bruised face between two hooked claws, and turning his head. He did not flinch. He met the hulking galra’s glowing eyes and glared. Zarkon grinned, turning his face to look at the bruises, the mangled ear, the scratches and cuts. “Restored, paladin. We will re-create you. Dismantle you and put you back together even greater than the Champion could have hoped to be. We will lead you to greatness,” he pulled his head back center, looking him in the eyes, “but only if you follow.” Zarkon rose out of the kneel and stalked to the chair at the center of the room. He sat down, looking out into the room. “Will you follow, paladin?”

Lance was silent. He looked at the ground between his knees and focused on his breathing. He was tired, so very tired, but he knew that he couldn’t betray his friends. He didn’t know how many weeks he had been gone from them—

“You think of your comrades, paladin,” Zarkon said. Lance flinched, pulling his cuffed hands up to his head as if to protect it.

“Stop looking into my  _ mind _ —”

“I did not have to look, human.” Zarkon said with a chuckle. “I know what you’re thinking without a druid’s touch. You wish for rescue that, I assure you, is not coming. Even now I hear reports from the galaxy where Haskoh held you. Voltron was seen there.” Lance’s breath stuttered to a halt.

“You’re wrong. It was the lions or the castle or—”

“I know what I say, paladin. Or should I say, ex-paladin—

“Stop it—”

_ “Voltron _ took down a security fleet. Intact. With all five lions together as one.” Lance was shaking. His hands were bound together and he couldn’t cover his ears— this was wrong. They needed him. They would come for him. They had to. They wouldn’t—

“Voltron was sweeping into action while you stood by my side for the Atavan transmission.

“Shut up. You’re lying.  _ Shut up _ —” 

“While you bowed in submission, they were together. Five paladins. Without you.” Zarkon was standing now, lording over him as he knelt on the cold throne-room floor. “You have been replaced.”

“Liar,” Lance cried, even as tears began to stream down his face. “You’re lying. They wouldn’t— they didn’t abandon me—”

“I never said the word abandoned, pet.” Zarkon purred with a smirk.”That one came from you.” 

Lance froze, letting Zarkon’s words sink in. Anguished sobs pulled their way out of his chest as Zarkon began to pace circles around him.

“We both know this, my former paladin. A weak-hearted human like you is of no use to a being like Voltron. Even your team, human though they are, understood that you had neither the will nor strength to be a great warrior.” He stopped directly behind him. “But  _ we  _ can change that. Change you. We can make you into something more. Atavan will forge you in fire, will break you down to your rawest self, and then then we will rebuild you.  _ Reform _ you. Physically and mentally. 

“Even now you recognize that your friends are gone. Your attachments are lethal. Sentiment only weakens you. That was the Champion’s failure.” Zarkon reached a hand into the short fuzz of Lance’s regrowing hair, pulling his head back to look forwards at the empty throne, flanked on either side by the druids and Tarnec. “We will empty you and forge you for greatness.” Zarkon leaned in close, breathing down Lance’s exposed neck— “all you have to do is say that you’ll pledge yourself to me at Atavan.”

Zarkon stopped and the room was silent other than Lance’s whimpering sobs. His hand twitched against his head, claws barely raking against Lance’s skin before—

“Stop that infernal crying!” Zarkon roared, shoving Lance forward by the back of the head. He collapsed in a heap, but kept crying. 

Zarkon strode across the room and back to his seat. He snapped something at the druids in Galra, but Lance was too distraught to try and translate any of it.

“Tarnec, take that thing away. Put it in a pod until Atavan.” Tarnec nodded, striding forwards to Lance’s prone form.

“My liege,” Nurav crooned, as Tarnec scooped Lance into his arms

“Speak, Nurav.”

“There are a few days until we arrive in Atavan. Allow me to spend that time with the boy. There is an unused lab in the lower floors. Allow me to convince him of your truth.” Zarkon was quiet for a moment, before nodding.

“Do what you will.” Nurav smiled beneath their cowl and turned to Tarnec.

“Take him to lab four. Set him up on the table.”

Tarnec nodded, walking out of the room with Lance cradled in his arms. As they walked through the halls, Lance’s sobs slowed and he turned towards Tarnec. He grabbed the galra’s sleeve with trembling hands

“Tarnec, pleace, you can’t let them take me— I’d rather go into the pod.  _ Please _ , Tarnec—” 

“Quiet, pet,” Tarnec murmured.

“ _ Tarnec _ .”

“Hush,” the galra snapped. Lance was quiet, sniffling to himself as they stepped into the elevator and headed to the lower level.

“I’ll die,” he whispered into the enclosed space.

Tarnec said nothing.

 

* * *

  
  


They had been training for four days. If their predictions of Zarkon’s route to Atavan were correct, then, in less than two hours his ship would fly right past where the castle was currently stationed., and, until then, they were doing everything they could to prepare.

The waiting had been the worst part. The days when there was nothing to be done had been tense. Whenever the team wasn’t training, they were all off on their own. Coran pretended the castle needed hands-on navigation, spending hours standing at the helm, looking out of the giant windows. He had done everything he could around the castle to make sure they were ready for Lance. He had prepped the med bay for any situation— broken bones, organ damage, dehydration—he was ready to bring his boy home. 

Behind him, the doors to the bridge opened. He turned to look and found Keith, already in his uniform, looking sheepishly at the floor.

“You’re nervous too?” Coran asked gently. Keith nodded and came to stand beside him at the large window.

“It’s a risky plan. Interfering with Zarkon’s warp drive right before he jumps to Ata—”

“That’s not what you’re nervous about. At least, it isn’t what I’m nervous about.” Coran chuckled lightly as Keith looked down, lilac creeping up his neck as he nodded.

“I just don’t know how we’ll help him. I don’t even know if we’ll be able to, I mean… He’s been through so much—you could see it in the transmission— and I don’t know what we’re going to do.” he fell silent. “Coran, he’s all I’m able to think about.” Coran nodded, sighing as he took in Keith’s downtrodden frame.

“I also find him consuming my thoughts. I worry for him, for you, for Allura and the blue lion. Things are strained it the castle, and all of it leads back to where we all separated. We’ve yet to come back together.”

“Well, hopefully in a few hours—”

“No, not when we were separated from Lance, although that does play a huge part. At some point we all became separated from each other: You and Pidge from Shiro, Allura from me, Hunk from all of us. I’m worried we won’t be able to help Lance. We can barely help each other.”

Keith looked over at Coran, who looked out the window with unseeing eyes.

“Coran, have you been okay through all this? I mean, you’re the only reason the castle has stayed together but…”

“An advisor’s role is to remain in the background, Keith. We guide quietly.”

“Yeah, but you’re not just our advisor. You’re a part of the team. Without you, we would have never looked to Allura for a pilot or been able to form Voltron—”

“That may not have been the right choice.”

“But it might’ve been our only one. Without Voltron, we wouldn’t have made it onto Haskoh’s ship or found Lance’s location. He would be going straight to Atavan and we would be none the wiser.” Keith looked out the window at the star system where they waited. “Whether or not Allura is right for the blue lion, it gives us a chance to save him. That’s what matters.”

 

* * *

 

They had the element of surprise. Zarkon left a warp right in front of the castle and, before they had time to recharge for another wormhole, Voltron surged into action, blowing through Zarkon’s first line of defense as they exited the wormhole, and damaging the main ship’s warp drive. 

“Get ready,” Shiro said into the comms. “We’re going to split apart, break in and find Zarkon. Lance will be with him. Hunk, Allura, keep those bay doors bottlenecked. Don’t let yourselves get overwhelmed. If Zarkon joins the fight, let us know, but do not engage.”

Voltron split into five lions and tore into a dive. They moved in formation, taking out the last of the security fleet and the beginning of the fighter ships that began to exit the main security bay. They were swooping beneath the ship, breaking out of formation and taking on the fighters, when the blue lion stopped. 

“Allura, what’s wrong?” Shiro called as he put the black lion’s jawblade to a battleship

“It’s my lion. She won’t move!” Keith turned his lion around to look and, sure enough, the blue lion was frozen, static beneath Zarkon’s ship. Even the glow was gone from her eyes. Keith  dove back down, moving to protect Blue from incoming fighter ships.

“Is it a tractor beam? Have you been immobilized?” Shiro asked.

“Negative. She just won’t move.” Allura huffed. Around them, the fight grew more intense. They had so little time. Shiro, Keith, and Pidge needed to get onto that ship, and soon. 

“Allura, you have to get Blue moving,” Shiro said, helping Hunk and Pidge block the bay door and trap fighters in the warship. 

“She won’t listen to me!” Aluura growled.

“Then listen to her,” Keith snapped, still defending Blue, who continued to float, dormant, facing the underbelly of the ship. Allura sighed frustratedly through the comms, but grew quiet. Suddenly, she gasped. 

“I know where he is,” she breathed. Everything froze.

“What?” Keith said quietly.

“The Blue lion found Lance!” she said. “He’s weak. She linked with his mind—the signature is barely there—but it’s enough.” The Blue lion’s eyes lit up and she burst into motion, tearing through ships with a vigor as she wove her way into position beside Hunk. Keith followed Pidge and Shiro onto the ship and left his lion. They tore into a hallway and found a security checkpoint, which Pidge immediately hacked. 

“Allura—” Pidge said into the comms as she pulled up a map of the ship.

“The southwest corner of the ship,” Allura said without prompting. “Hurry. It feels like he’s fading.”

They ran, not even trying for stealth as they descended into the belly of the ship. The alarms blared around them but they didn’t care.  They had to fight their way through the main floor, but, the lower they got, the fewer guards they encountered. Something about it made Keith’s skin crawl, but they kept moving. They burst through a pair of doors and into a hallway that was startlingly bright. Keith winced, dazed by the fluorescent lighting when Shiro stopped in front of him.

“Oh no,” he gasped, face going pale despite the flush from exertion.

“Shiro?” Pidge asked, looking back at him.

“These are the labs,” he whispered. They looked down the empty hallway, almost mocking with its bright lighting.

“What does that mean?” Keith asked warily. 

“It means we should hurry,” Shiro said, striding forward. “Pidge, what do we know?” She looked down the hall.

“There’s a console on the very back wall. Hopefully, it can tell us which of these has Lance in it.”

“Good. We don’t want to pick wrong. You don’t know what we’ll find down here.” They made their way to the end of the hall and Shiro and Keith took defensive positions in front of Pidge as she started the hack. The seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness. Keith counted his breaths, trying to stay calm as Pidge searched for a minute and then half of another before—

“Two doors down on the right. Human prisoner.” She turned and met their eyes. “It has to be him.” They crept down the hall and Shiro pressed his galra hand to the door. It slid open.

The room was cold, both in temperature and sterility. The walls were lined with wicked looking tools and various monitors. Something in the room was beeping, and there was the steady whir of medical pumps. In the center of the room was a healing pod, but horizontal, and, laid back into it, was Lance. 

Keith rushed into the room, deactivating his bayard. He pressed his hands against the cold glass and watched Lance’s prone form, waiting, waiting until— Lance’s chest rose and fell slowly. He was breathing. They weren’t too late. 

“Guys, h-how do we get him out,” He said, turning helplessly to Shiro. Shiro pressed his galra hand to a panel on the machine, and a holoscreen rose into existence, but the glass lid didn’t move. Pidge stepped up to the holoscreen and began to type.

“I’ve got files, but I’ll need a minute to find a release command for the pod,” she said, eyes tearing over information as it appeared. Shiro went and watched the door while Pidge continued to type. While she worked, Keith looked into the pod and felt tears sting in the backs of his eyes. Lance was nearly unrecognizable. He had been gone barely six weeks, but it looked like years had been taken off of his life. 

“Got it!” Pidge shouted. The glass shifted slightly and the pod hissed as the seal was broken. Pidge and Keith just watched as the glass pulled back. Pidge cleared her throat a few times and turned back to the holoscreen. “I’m going to send the castle everything I can about his time here. Then we’ll know how to help him,” she said, voice rough with emotion. Keith nodded, moving to undo the restraints around Lance’s thin wrists and ankles. He swore at his shaking hands as he fumbled with the cuffs. 

“Pidge, which of the IV’s can we remove?” He asked, looking at the three different drips flowing into Lance’s thin arms.

“I… I can’t tell. Let’s just take them with us. Allura or Coran can sort that out.” Keith nodded and set about removing the fluid bags from their hooks. 

“Keith,” Shiro said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll carry him, you keep us safe getting out of here.” Keith nodded, and reactivated his bayard. Shiro scooped Lance into his arms like he weighed nothing and Pidge carried the fluid bags. 

They left the research wing and hurried back to their lions. They made it almost the entire way there with only guards and security droids in their way, but when they got the bay where they had stashed their lions, there was druid and a small patrol waiting for them.

“So,” Nurav hissed. “The champion returns. Here to steal my project?” Their hands lit up with energy. They all stopped. Keith secured his grip on his sword and watched the druid carefully.

“Pidge,” Shiro whispered, “I’m going to put Lance on your back. Get to your lion no matter what. Keith, take the guards. I’ve got the druid.” Nurav smirked beneath their cowl and a sibilant chuckle hissed out of them.

“I’m not going to fight you for him, Champion.” Nurav crooned. “Why, he’s practically dead already. You taking him saves me the trouble of presenting a corpse at Atavan. You see, I was overzealous.” 

“Shiro I don’t like this,” Keith said, stepping in front of Shiro and Lance with his sword at the ready. 

“Lord Zarkon wanted the paladin reformed at Atavan. I was trying to prepare him—”

“Easy, Keith,” Shiro said, draping Lance over Pidge’s back. He activated his arm and turned towards the druid.

“But Shiro—”

“We were trying to create something even greater than you, Champion.” Nurav purred. Shiro froze, expression growing hard. The energy on Nurav’s hands crackled. “And we would have succeeded had he not been so… fragile.” Shiro’s face drew into a snarl and he drew back, ready to charge at the druid when his helmet screeched with static.

“Shiro, can you hear me?” Allura said frantically through the comms. Her voice was layered with interference. “Coran needs you all off of that ship! You’ve been in there too long and we don’t know when they’ll try and leave!”

“Shiro, the druid is stalling.” Keith said. He took a deep breath and a step forward. “Get Pidge and Lance onto the linos. I’ll take care of this.”

Before Shiro could stop him, Keith rushed forwards with a yell, slicing at the place where Nurav was. They shimmered away and he whirled around, expecting an attack from behind, but none came. Keith turned to the guards, who were cocking their weapons, as the druid’s voice rang out over the room.

“Have fun with the paladin. Or rather, what’s left of him.” They said as the warship whirred back to life. Shiro and Keith tore through the small patrol in the room, desperate to make it to their lions before the ship was able to form a wormhole. Keith looked up and saw that Pidge had made it past them with Lance and was climbing into her lion. He and Shiro dispatched the remaining guards and ran for their lions. 

Outside, Hunk and Allura watched the beginnings of a wormhole form at the head of the warship. Allura fought with everything she had to keep the blue lion from diving into action. They couldn’t risk anything, not with the ship about to make a jump. Through the comms she could hear Hunk urging the others on under his breath. She couldn’t help but agree with him. The wormhole was growing. Soon it would be large enough to take the warship through to Atavan.

Three dots emerged from behind the ship, zooming towards the Castle, just as Zarkon’s warship began to warp out of sight.

“We’re bringing him home,” Shiro said into the comms.

 

* * *

 

Pidge pulled her lion into the hangar of the castle and froze in her seat. She should have been happy, joyous even: the mission had been a success. They had finally brought Lance home. Even so, the tears wouldn’t stop. They escalated into gasping sobs that had her shaking and struggling for breath. She registered the concern of the others over the comms; she heard as Keith, Hunk, and Shiro boarded her lion; but she couldn’t move from the chair. 

“Oh my god,” Hunk swore, kneeling on the floor beside her pilot’s seat where Lance lay, still unconscious, on the floor. Shiro came and pried her out of the chair while Hunk and Keith gingerly carried Lance and his medical bags out into the hangar.

“Pidge, it’s okay. Everything’s okay now.” Shiro murmured, carrying her behind the rest of the group, who swarmed frantically around Lance’s prone form as they ventured to the medical bay.

“No, it isn’t,” she sobbed. “Shiro, he’s so light. So light  _ I _ could carry him. Never in my life would I—should I—God he looks so small. And what the druid said—”

“The druid was trying to scare us, Pidge. Lance will be fine. We’ll make sure of it.”

“But look at him,” Pidge said, frantically wiping away her tears as Shiro set her down in the med bay. She sank to the floor and gestured weakly at the table where Hunk and Coran were laying Lance. He was still as a statue while they bustled around him, hanging up the  IV drips and grabbing the materials to start scanning his body. “He looks like a corpse,” Pidge whispered. 

Shiro said nothing, simply offering Pidge a hand and pulling her to her feet. He drew her into a hug and she went willingly, ignoring both of their sweaty uniforms to focus on each other and the sad sort of relief they felt. After a minute, Pidge pulled back. She wiped the last of her tears and walked to the bedside.

Coran and Hunk were removing Lance’s dirty bandages. He wouldn’t be able to wear them in the pod. With each one they removed, Keith grew more and more upset. They started at his head, de-bandaging an ear, then a scratch on his neck, bite marks over his shoulder half healed into angry scabs, claw marks down his arms and back— By the time they made it to the largest wound, a dirty bandage covering his entire right thigh, Keith was shaking with rage. Removing the bandage only made it worse.

“Oh X’hal,” Coran gasped, as Hunk uncovered three angry gashes scoring down Lance’s leg. When they hit the air, Lance winced, his first real movement since he left the pod on the warship. They could smell that the wound was infected. Parts of it wept blood and clear pus, and the entire area was inflamed. 

“According to scans, there is no internal damage.” Allura stated from a monitor by the healing pod. “He has a hairline fracture in his left leg and many bruised ribs but no major damage to any organs. We can also remove the three IV’s. The healing pod will take over for them.” She moved emotionlessly through the work of preparing a pod and a healing suit while Hunk, with shaking hands, helped Coran wipe what grime they could from Lance’s skin. While they worked, he began to tremble, twitching away from their touch. He was into the healing suit and halfway to the kryo-pod, when his eyes snapped open and he gasped. 

For a moment, everything was still. Lance hardly noticed them in the room. His eyes remained fixed on the healing pod in front of him. Then he screamed, pulling one arm from Hunk’s gentle grasp and trying to twist away from Coran. His voice took on a desperate pleading tone as he spoke in gibberish, tugging himself away from the healing pod. None of them had ever heard him like that. He howled like a wounded animal, fighting without strength as Coran tried and failed to calm him. They secured him in the pod and he just wept, his head hanging backwards, revealing bruises down the column of his throat. He stayed like that, bawling with fat tears rolling down his face, as the pod closed in front of him. They watched his breath calm from stuttering sobs into the steady sleep of the healing pod. 

The monitors on the pod beeped to life and Allura, with a choked voice, gave some platitude about things being okay now. But as Keith looked around the room, and saw Pidge, clutching at Shiro, both of them pale as ghosts; Hunk, biting his knuckles to keep from crying; Coran, letting tears fall untouched down his face; and Allura, with hunched shoulders, refusing to look at anything but the monitor in front of her, Keith was painfully aware of how not okay everything was.

 

End Act I.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please Comment and Kudos! I love every one of them!
> 
> [addition 12.26.2017- 
> 
> hey loves, this is an author request to take a break right now! It's a big heavy fic, so take an hour's rest. scroll through tumblr! talk to your cat! leave a bigass comment! 
> 
> Just take a break, check in with yourself, and then come back!]


	13. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO'S BACK FROM THE DEAD MOFOS
> 
> Finals, tech week, and emotional incompetence can't keep me down.
> 
> *Cornelius fudge voice* She's back!
> 
> And, because she loves you adorable losers, she's got 6,000+ words of angst ready to go.
> 
> Now that it's summer, regular updates should start back up. It's possible that they'll be every other week rather than every week, but I'll announce that if it becomes a decision.
> 
> But seriously, things are running long in Act 2. Get hype. Or scared. whatever you want, just get it.
> 
> Lots of emotional angst in this one but, considering I've had no tw/cw requests yet, nothing too awful. But tw/cw requests still stand. Let me know if there's anything I need to warn for.
> 
> and with that: Even More Angst!
> 
> xoxo  
> Tay

Day 1:

 

No one spoke for a long minute. They all stood in the echoing quiet of the med bay. Even though he was safe in the kryo pod, Lance’s anguished cries seemed to ring through the room.

Allura cleared her throat and all heads turned towards her, still hunched over the monitor.

“Lance’s readings are relatively good, all things considered.” she pulled up a holoscreen and showed it to the room. “The majority of the damage is his his tissues. While any bone damage is minimal—,”

“Allura,” Shiro said, quietly.

“The tissues surrounding his bones however—there’s evidence of a fair amount of trauma, especially in his ribcage—”

“Allura,” Shiro said more loudly, hand tightening on Pidge’s shoulder.

“Luckily, none of the arteries there—”

“Allura!” Shiro shouted. She stopped, looking up, shocked. “Now _really_ is not the time for this conversation.” Shiro fixed her with a stare and they both looked around the room at the other, weary, paladins. Allura nodded.

“Of course,” she said tersely. “My apologies. We can...We can debrief both the mission and Lance’s health in the morning.” She pulled the holoscreen out of existence and exited the med bay. Shiro watched her leave before turning to the others.

“We all need to rest,” Shiro said crisply. “Go try and get some sleep, but if you need to talk to someone remember that we’re all here for each other. We had a rough day, but our mission was a success. He’s home. He’s safe. Focus on that for right now. Get some rest.” No one said anything, or moved. Shiro sighed. “I get that we’re all worried about him, but he’ll be here in the morning. Now go, all of you.”

The younger paladins slowly pulled themselves towards the door to the med bay, first Pidge, then Hunk, then Keith, but all of them were reluctant to leave their friend. Shiro turned and looked back at Lance, peaceful in the healing pod.

“You should take your own advice,” Coran said. Shiro chuckled to himself and looked at the older man.

“I know, but—”

“But you, like the rest of us, are worried. I understand.”

“But it’s not even being worried, that bothers me most—we’ve been worried for six weeks. I guess the problem is that… I guess I just— It hasn’t stopped.” He looked at Coran, eyes clouded with stress. “I wanted to get him back and have him in the castle and be able to stop worrying but…” Shiro thought back to getting Lance into the healing pod—his incoherent howling, the wailing, the tears—“I just know we’re still a long ways away from normal. And I don’t know how much more the others can take.”

Coran nodded and moved to place a hand on Shiro’s shoulder.

“Well, they have us to help them along.” Shiro nodded and gave Coran a sad smile.

“Thank you, Coran,” he said earnestly. “ You should also go get some rest. It’s been a hard six weeks.”

“Certainly. But first,” Coran took a step back, “I should clean up. Get those rags cleared away, set out some extra blankets. This room will not be empty tonight, we both know it.”

“Do you need any help—”

“None of that,” Coran said, shooing Shiro towards the door. “Go wash up, Shiro. You fought a hard mission. This old felsnif can handle a bit of mess.”

“Okay. Good night Coran, and thank you.” Coran waved good night and turned to the med bay. He started to walked towards the cluttered sick bed where Lance had been but stopped in front of the healing pod. He look in at the skinny, young boy that lay there—skinnier and more worn looking than he should be—and sighed. He pressed a hand against the glass.

“Oh, my poor boy,” he sighed, giving himself over to the waiting tears.

 

Day 2:

 

“You said no internal damage,”Keith growled from his place in the room. The team was assembled in the bridge, standing and sitting around the room. Allura was presenting Lance’s medical record, Coran at her side and a holoscreen with a silhouette of Lance shining in front of her. There were highlighted areas crisscrossing his form.

“I was referring to organ damage which, luckily, Lance does not have. However, there is damage to various tissues in his chest and face, as well as massive muscular tearing in his leg. Even though the pod will heal the wound, he will likely need time to rebuild strength there, especially after the effects of the infection. In fact, it’s a marvel he could stand at all.” Keith took a step towards her, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He looked back at Hunk, who started to speak.

“So what does all of this mean—the fractures, the tissues damage, the dehydration—what will that mean for him?” Allura glanced back at Coran before continuing.

“Well, the pods can deal with tissue damage fairly easily, as well as fractures. Those types of wounds usually only take a few hours or so.” She pointed to the large wound on his leg. “An open wound of this size takes hours as well, possibly twice as long considering it was infected, but, overall, he should should be out of kryo fairly soon. Tomorrow night should see him healed.”

There was silence around the bridge. There really wasn’t anything else to talk about right now. Shiro had debriefed the trip into Zarkon’s ship, and now they had gone through the data Allura had gotten from the kryo pod and the scans that she had taken.

The only thing left to talk about was everything.

Nevertheless, no one spoke as Allura pulled the holoscreen away and turned back to the controls. They trickled out of the room, Pidge to her lab, Hunk and Keith to the med bay, Shiro to the training deck.

He called up the gladiator, falling into the rhythm of the fight with ease. He did his best to concentrate, but what the druid had said raced through his mind. Had they truly been trying to turn Lance into another version of him? Had his survival in the ring been a motivation for causing Lance pain? And if they had been trying to turn Lance into a warrior, why was he so malnourished? Surely they would’ve tried building him up, especially if the druids were still as capable as they had been when he had been there. Nothing made sense.

The gladiator came at him again and, though Shiro fought it, he was unfocused, mind racing as he glided through the fight. It wasn’t until he fought his way to the harder levels that the exertion was finally enough to distract him from thought of Lance. Nevertheless, once he finally called an end to the training sequence, his mind went right back to the blue paladin.

 

Day 3:

 

It was the middle of the night, and, again, Hunk was camped out in the med bay on the floor, where he had been since dinner. He had spent much of the past two days in this room. For a while, he had tried to make himself useful—cooking, helping Pidge and Allura download and translate the files from Zarkon’s ship, cleaning with Coran,—but during those tasks, he grew antsy. He found himself drawn back to the med bay. At night, nothing kept him in his room. He wandered down there with a blanket and lay on the floor.

He spent most of his time in silence, listening to the monitors and the pod’s whirring mechanisms. Sometimes, he spoke to Lance. Just let his thoughts ramble through the air while the other boy slept in the pod. Lance had been moving a lot during his kryo-sleep, and Hunk hoped that his voice, if Lance could even hear it, could be soothing. So he told Lance about the days he had missed. About quiet meals and stressful training sessions. About Shiro and Keith’s fight and their making up. About Coran’s re-doubled efforts at earthen cooking.

That was how Keith had found him the first night: on the floor in his pajamas, rambling. Now, the two of them were constant visitors, spending their nights on the floor together.

On the other side of the room, the doors slid open.

“Hunk?” Keith said from the doorway. Even though it was the middle of the night, he was in his regular clothes. Hunk sat up and turned towards the door.

“Hey. Also can’t sleep?” Keith nodded and came to join him on the floor. Neither of them spoke, choosing instead to watch Lance as he rested. His face was, for the most part, still. For most of the night, they just listened to the beeping of the monitors and the whir of the machinery while they watched Lance’s chest rise and fall. At times, his face twitched, looking momentarily sad or stressed.

“Do you think…” Hunk started, watching Lance twitch in his sleep. Keith turned his head towards him, though his eyes never left Lance. “Nevermind.”

“No, tell me,” Keith said, eyes finally sliding away from the pod.

“I guess I was wondering… Do you think he’s dreaming in there? When his face moves?” They both turned to look at the boy in the healing pod. “And if he is, do you think he’s okay? I mean, what do you think he dreams about?”

“I… I don’t think we want to know,” Keith said.

The implications of that hung between them, unspoken. If Lance was dreaming at all, it was probably of that place. Keith shuddered. He had only been in that lab for minutes, but his subconscious still threw the image of Lance in that coffin-like pod in front of his eyes at every opportunity. Or that druid, cackling while he tried to protect Shiro and Lance’s too-still body. He hadn’t slept enough to know if it would turn into nightmares, but he didn’t doubt that it could. Beside him, Hunk pulled his blanket tighter around his shoulders,

 

*

 

The castle was tense. The team floated past each other without speaking, though they were always within proximity. Mostly, they wandered the halls nearest to the med bay.

Lance was supposed to come out of kryo that night.

Shiro had kicked Keith and Hunk out of the med bay that morning, saying that if they wanted to be any use to Lance, they would have to get some rest before that evening. Coran had promised to sit with Lance, watching for any changes. According to him and Allura, Lance should be released from the pod a few hours after dinner, and the closer the team came to mealtime, the more tightly wound each of them seemed.

Dinner came slowly. A few minutes into the meal, Shiro cleared his throat. He looked around the table at his team—save Coran, who was with Lance in the med bay.

“I think we need to make a plan for when Lance gets out of the healing pod. I assume you will all want to be there, but I don’t want us to overwhelm or overstimulate Lance. Even though he’ll be better physically, we don’t know what happened to him with Zarkon or how he’ll react to being around people. It isn’t fair of me to ask you to not all be there, so we need to come up with a plan.”

“Shiro, if…” Pidge started, “if we don’t think we can be there, do we have to be? I mean, in the room when he comes out?” Pidge whispered into her food, which sat mostly untouched. Shiro’s expression softened.

“Of course not, Pidge. You can wait until later to see him.” Pidge nodded, returning her attention to her meal— not so much eating, as moving it around the plate. Shiro looked to Hunk and Keith. “I assume that you two will both be there?”

Keith and Hunk both nodded. Shiro’s eyebrows drew together slightly as he nodded in turn.

“I’m not going to try and stop you two from being there, but I will ask you both to be ready for anything. Lance probably isn’t going to be comfortable with us when he comes out. Give him space. Give him time. Allura will run a few tests, just to make sure he’s in the clear, and we’ll move from there, but, no matter what, I need you two to remain calm.”

 

*

Keith was pacing. A lot. He’d been pacing for the last hour of their three hour stint in the med bay. They had come down following dinner and had been in the med bay since. Allura had assured them that Lance was certainly fine and the pod would tell them if he was in any danger, but that didn’t stop Hunk’s stressed rambling.

Another hour saw Keith leaning against the wall, sulking and Hunk finally quiet, tinkering on some piece of medical equipment Allura had shown him.

“How many hours has he been in the pod?” Keith asked late in the evening.

“He’s been in for 68 total hours.” Allura said.

“But he was only supposed to be in for 60,” Keith said.

“That was only an estimate, Keith.” Allura said, scrolling through more data from the pod. “According to the pod, his wounds are healed—”

“Then why—”

“But that doesn’t mean he is ready to emerge. It’s possible that his body simply needs more time to rest.” Allura turned back to her tablet and whatever she was reading there. Keith looked helplessly at Shiro, reclining on a nearby sick-bed.

“Allura’s right Keith. Lance was in really bad shape when we brought him back. You took longer to recover from that hit from the druid.”

“But that was some crazy, magical injury. This is—”

“Malnutrition, Dehydration, and signs of massive blood loss. He just needs more time.”

 

Day 4:

 

Sometime around 2 in the morning, Pidge wandered down to the med bay. Hunk had fallen asleep on the floor by Lance’s pod and Keith was dozing next to him. Shiro was still on one of the sick-beds, reading something on a tablet. Allura was no longer in the med bay.

“He still isn’t out?” Pidge asked, walking over to Shiro. He set down the tablet and scooted over as she pulled herself onto the bed.

“No. Keith was going crazy earlier. He probably paced ten miles in here.”

“And Hunk?”

“Allura put him to work fixing things to try and distract him. I’m kind of amazed she didn’t snap at either of them. They were both pretty high-strung.”

“And you?” Shiro chuckled lightly, reaching over and ruffling Pidge’s hair.

“I’m fine. Also worried, but coping better than the wonder-twins over there.”

“They really came together over this, didn’t they.” Pidge said, turning to look at Keith and Hunk, leaning into each other on the floor.

“Definitely. I mean… Well, it’s good. That you two could be there for him. For Keith, I mean. I know I haven’t exactly been as present as I should have been. It’s nice to know that he had someone during that.”

“Shiro…” Pidge turned to look at the older paladin. “You know you don’t have to feel guilty over this, right?”

“Pidge—”

“No, I’m serious. We never talked about the actual day it happened—”

“No one wanted to.”

“But we should have anyways.” Shiro looked down at his hands, but Pidge soldiered on. “I know you blamed yourself for Lance getting captured,” she said, voice hardly above a whisper. “And I know that you think whatever they did to him is your fault too, because of what that druid on Zarkon’s ship said, but—”

“Katie, please,” Shiro said tersely.

“But we don’t blame you. None of us could have stopped what happened. You and Allura both said so. I was on that mission too. We did our best, and it just wasn’t enough to keep him safe. But he’s here now. And—”

“Pidge, he called out to me.” Shiro said firmly. “He yelled _my_ name and there was nothing I could do to save him.”

“But that doesn’t mean it was your fault.”

“Doesn’t it? I failed him, Pidge. And then, I didn’t fight hard enough to go and get him. We should’ve jumped into action immediately. We stormed right up to Zarkon’s gates when Allura was captured, but somehow it took us weeks to track down some second-rate general?”

“That wasn’t really something we could help. At one point we only had three capable paladins on the ship. That’s not enough to—”

“But think about it. If we had tracked Haskoh down faster, we could have gotten to him before Lance even went to Zarkon. Before the druids went and experimented on him—”

“We don’t know that for sure—”

“Don’t we? We pulled him half-starved out of a lab, Pidge. We were so close to being too late. I just keep thinking… Why didn’t we do better?”

“Shiro, we did what we could.”

“No. We did what we did. We could have done more.”

 

Day 5:

They were all pretending not to worry. Allura had tried to pass Lance’s extra day and a half in the pod off as the result of how malnourished and dehydrated he had been going in, but now he had been in the pod for almost five whole days, and even she seemed at a loss at what to do.

The others looked on silently while Allura and Coran ran every test they could without removing Lance from the pod. Without taking him out, they couldn’t run cultures on his blood, but, with enough time, they could do practically everything else. So the others just sat on the sidelines, watching while the two Alteans puttered around. For the first few tests, Pidge had tried helping out, but, as the tests grew in number and the Alteans moved more and more quickly through things, she stepped back, allowing them to do their work. Within moments of her leaving, they had slipped into Altean, Coran and Allura snapping at each other as they wrote new tests into the pods systems and pored over the results of old ones.

Finally, after what felt like, and possibly was, hours, Coran and Allura turned to the group.

“Well?”

“Is he okay—”

“Do you guys know what’s happening—”

Coran hushed his frantic paladins with a wave of his hand.

“We aren’t entirely sure why Lance is still in the pod,” Coran said, bracing himself for the wave of outrage.

“After all that?”

“There’s gotta be something else you can try—”  
“But what does that mean for him?”

“Don’t worry,” Allura said, stepping to Coran. “According to the pod he is safe and stable. There are a few minor chemical imbalances—mostly hormonal—and while that wouldn’t usually be cause for a lengthy pod stay, there are a few things that may explain why the pod has continued to hold him.”

Coran pulled up a series of charts and moved different diagrams around until there was an arc of medical information hovering in front of the paladins. Pidge stepped up to one of the charts, frowning.

“Is this is Lance’s heart?” she said, pointing to one of the charts. Her eyes tracked the jumping lines.

“Yes, number 5,” Coran said, stepping forwards. “Lance has been experiencing frequent, yet erratic periods of intense heart activity: increased heart rate, arrhythmic beats, and, once, a sudden stop.”

“Coran, that’s really serious,” Hunk gasped, stepping forwards.

“His heart started again without the pod intervening, but, considering it stopped at all, we will keep looking into it.”

“Do we know what’s causing this?” Shiro said, voice calm despite his worried expression. Allura walked to another chart.

“At times, the increased heart rate coincides with moments of increased brain activity, which essentially means that—well, Lance is having nightmares while in kryo.”

The room was quiet. Hunk and Keith looked to each other, sharing a brief moment of eye contact, before all eyes in the room turned to Lance, seemingly peaceful in the healing pod.

“And the other irregularities?” Keith asked. Coran and Allura shared a glance, before turning to yet another screen.

“The pod showed us that there is some some of hormone imbalance that Lance is currently experiencing. It is common for Alteans who have spent periods of time in captivity to experience agita, irrational anxiousness, and bouts of melancholy. These often manifest in hormone imbalances. My guess is that Lance could be affected by something similar.”

“We have that in humans too,” Pidge said. “Anxiety, depression, PTSD. But, if that’s causing spikes in his heart rate, then he’s also having panic attacks…”

“Is there anything we can do for him?” Keith asked, looking worriedly at Allura. “Can’t we take him out of the pod and help him through this?”

“Unfortunately, what we just told you is all we really know about the situation. The fact that the pod hasn’t yet chosen to release Lance, and the fact that his heart has stopped during one of these episodes, means that he is still too weak to released from the pod. While the pod can’t help him regain the weight he loss, it is capable of giving him the nourishment necessary to reduce stress on his body. I advise that we keep Lance in the pod until he is well enough to deal with the stress of emerging.”

 

Day 6:

 

Keith was in the training room. Sweat poured off of him as he tore through one training droid after another.

Lance had been in the pod for six days. For nearly a week, the other boy had been safe on their ship, yet Keith couldn’t stop worrying about him. He couldn’t sleep, could barely eat— after the fifth day, Coran had started kicking him and Hunk out of med bay if they were in there ‘sulking’ for too long. Now all Keith could do was try to burn through his restless energy. He knew it was dangerous, purposely exhausting himself— just because they’d pulled the castle into a safe zone didn’t mean they wouldn’t get called away by a distress beacon— but it was the only way he could hope to get to sleep. If he was tired enough, he could sleep without dreaming, so now he strove for tired.

When he did dream, he dreamt of Lance. Usually it was Lance as he was now: never waking— his body as still as death in the glass case on Zarkon’s ship. Sometimes his mind crafted nightmares, tortures he’d imagined while trying to figure how a certain scar or bruise or cut had originated, and those were the worst ones— filled with Lance’s screams and tears as he wondered aloud why the others hadn’t come for him. Keith knew that he’d made those scenarios up, but it didn’t stop him from jolting awake, cold sweat stinging along his face and his heart pounding.

But the worst nights were the softer ones, the ones where he dreamt of Lance before he went missing. For a few weeks they had be close, joking together, celebrating successful missions, even training together. Lance had wanted to improve at hand to hand combat, and he’d asked Keith— eyes averted, muttering all the while— if they could train together. Even though the sessions had been frustrating, they had brought them closer together.

As he took his sword to another droid, Keith wondered if his training had been any help to Lance. Or, if he’d been a better teacher, if Lance would have been able to fight his way back to Shiro and Allura—

The gladiator struck Keith in the side, shaking him out of his reverie.

“End training sequence,” he panted, sinking to the floor. He rubbed his ribs. It’d bruise, but that seemed to be it. _Not like hairline fractures and damaged cartilage._ He thought wryly. After having Pidge explain all of Lance’s charts to him, Keith couldn’t seem to put Lance’s injuries out of his mind. From the damage in his abdomen to the smaller cuts around his wrist— he knew every mark had a story that he probably didn’t want to know.

Yet all he could think of was the footage they hadn’t seen.

 

Day 7:

 

None of them really said anything. None of them had anything to say. But the morbid curiosity gnawed at them— wrapped up in all the anxiousness, all the worry— They just wanted to _know_.

What on earth had happened to Lance to give him nightmares so awful his heart stopped? Or panic attacks even while in kryo? On one level they didn’t want to know, but surely it couldn’t be worse than what they were imagining, right? And really, it was the imagining that became the hardest part.

Coran and Allura had kicked them all out of the med bay to run more tests, leaving the remaining four paladins to their own devices. They spent much of the morning apart, all of them stewing on their own.

 

*

 

It was Hunk who was brave enough to do it. The other boy had spent the afternoon cooking, and had gathered everyone together for a late lunch. Shiro had agreed with him that it would be good for them to all spend time together, so Keith, Pidge and Allura had been herded from their corners of the castle to the kitchen.

The meal had been normal enough, if quiet—though maybe quiet was normal now—and they were all concentrating on their food when Hunk cleared his throat.

“So, um… I guess I just—I don’t know if anyone else has thought about it, but I can’t stop thinking about them—“

“What’s wrong, Hunk,” Shiro said gently, setting down his spork and turning his attention to the yellow paladin. They watched Hunk stare down into his food, a ripple of concern passing through the group at how little Hunk had eaten so far. Whatever he was thinking was important.

Hunk looked up suddenly eyes fearful, yet determined.

“I think we should look at Lance’s files from when he was captured,” he said plainly. The statement hung in the air.

“Hunk,” Allura started carefully, her eyes flickering towards Shiro, whose eyebrows had pulled together into a furrow.

“I know we think it’s an invasion of Lance’s privacy—“

“Yes, it is.” Shiro said.

“But I think it’ll be really important for us to know how to handle him when he comes out of the pod, especially considering what Coran told us about his heart.”

“A few more days in the pod and the stress on Lance’s heart will be greatly reduced. It’s just working too hard because the malnourishment has his body is strained for energy. Allura said so.” Shiro looked over at the princess, who startled.

“I did say that, yes. However—“

“Therefore, I don’t think we have a viable reason for invading Lance’s privacy like that.”

“But Shiro, think about it,” Pidge said. “If it’s the potential anxiety that we’re worried about, wouldn’t it be best to know what could potentially trigger Lance? if he’s under this much stress while unconscious—“

“It isn’t our place to pry. I know that we’re all worried, but this isn’t a solution.”

“Neither is sitting around doing nothing,” Keith muttered, crossing his arms.

“Look,” Shiro snapped, voice suddenly harsh. “I’m sorry that we all feel useless right now, but that’s just what it’s got to be.”

“But Shiro,” Pidge said, rising up out of her chair. “Hunk is right. We have to do our best to make things easy on Lance when he comes out of the pod. If we can at least read the files, they could tell us something important. What if there’s something medical that we’re missing?”

“We already did what we could with the written files. Half of them were written in Druda, which the castle can’t translate yet—”

“That was just the files from Zarkon’s lab—”

“Those would be the only relevant ones, Pidge.”

“But, Shiro, we don’t know what we’re up against with helping him,” Hunk said.

“That’s okay,” Shiro sighed. ”We don’t go into all battlefields prepared.”

“But we can’t afford to mess this up—”

“But knowing won’t help us make it perfect,” Shiro snapped, standing up out of his chair. “I know we’re all sick with worry, and you guys are thinking the worst, but this will only confirm those fears and _then_ where will we be. You want to know what Lance will be afraid of, but _he_ probably won’t even know what he’s afraid of. One day something will be fine and the next it causes a flashback. You can’t know with these things, so _please,_ just drop it.” With that, Shiro stormed out, kitchen doors sliding closed behind him.

“One of us should—” Pidge started.

“Pidge, can you—” Keith said, turning to look at her.

“I’ll do it,” Hunk said, standing.

“Hunk, I don’t know if—”

“Pidge, this was my fault. I’ll go talk to him.”

 

*

 

Hunk found Shiro on the bridge, looking out of the big windows at the star system they were in. Coran and Allura had pulled the Castle into orbit around two small suns, and were hoping to stay there as long as they could while Lance recovered. It meant that the castle was a bit warmer than usual, almost like his house on Earth during summer.

Shiro didn’t react when the doors to the bridge opened behind him. Hunk approached carefully, stopping a few feet behind and to the left of him.

“Shiro?”

The older paladin startled, turning around quickly.

“Hunk,” he breathed, shaking off the brief panic that had flashed in his eyes. He turned back to the window.

“I’m really sorry about earlier,” Hunk said, coming to stand beside Shiro. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I guess I just… I’m just so worried. For him to be that scared even while he’s in the pod, I just hate thinking that… that _we_ could scare him.”

“We probably will.”

“Huh?”

“Anyone taller than him, stronger looking than him— sudden movements, loud voices, physical contact, being alone, any of it. There’s no way to know for sure.”

“Shiro…” Shiro turned to look at him, eyes heavy with something unnamed.

“We’ll just have to do our best, okay?” Hunk watched the older paladin turn away from him, haunted eyes returning to the stars outside the window.

“Okay...” he said, doubtful that Shiro could hear him.

 

Day 8:

 

Allura rubbed her fingers against her temples. All week, she’d had a headache, not from stress or actual illness, but from the blue lion, always pressing against her mind. Blue had been stressed all week, unable to sense her paladin and, as a result, constantly pushing against Allura’s consciousness. In the past few days she had taken to just walking to the med bay and looking at him. It seemed to calm the lion for a little while, but whenever Allura wasn’t consoling the blue lion, she was subject to the lion’s restlessness.

That’s how she ended up here: wandering the halls in the middle of the night. She used this time to explore the unused parts of the castle. The ship was simply too huge for only seven people to maintain, so there were entire portions going unused: small workrooms, the classrooms, the childcare center. The Castle of Lions had essentially been a small city for the original paladins, soldiers, and their families. Now, so many rooms went neglected.

Soon she found herself planning. There were so many thing that the others would probably enjoy. She remembered that Pidge and Hunk had wondered about an indoor garden. They had been saving seeds from fruits they’d been gifted and soil samples from different planets. The castle used to have a thriving botanical garden. It could be possible to do that again. It could be a comfort to them—

In the back of her head, the blue lion keened, a worried, maternal sound. Allura whispered soothingly to her in Altean. The language was older and more comforting than the common tongue that she used with the other paladins. She thought wistfully about finding the time to teach it to the others. Properly, not just a few words between missions and training sessions.

Sighing, she turned back towards the main sections of the castle, going the long way, past the original paladin’s quarters. One day, she hoped to clean the castle properly. Give the paladins she had the original suites. Suddenly, she stopped. She turned around and headed deeper into the castle, stopping only when an ornate metal door looked back at her. For whatever reason, it seemed smaller now. Although she was much taller now than she had been the last time this had been her mother’s room.

She pressed her hand against the dusty scanner, hoping that it would still work. It took a few tries, but the door finally opened to her. She stepped into the Blue paladin’s quarters. If she closed her eyes, she felt that she could still smell the crushed flowers and drying ink that always seemed to linger on her mother’s skin. She stepped deeper into the room, feet silent on the plush carpet and walked to her mother’s vanity, still cluttered with the royal jewels she refused to wear. Her mother was a paladin. A soldier, not a prize like so many queens before her. She had been a severe woman, endlessly caring, but very serious. It was that duality—her mother’s compassionate core and stony exterior, that had inspired Allura as a young girl.

To follow in her mother’s footsteps—to be queen and general, loved by your people and feared by your enemies— it was all she had ever wanted.

She sunk onto the plush stool in front of her mother’s vanity and looked down at the tarnished jewelry there. Gems sparkled in time-darkened metals. Allura looked into the dusty mirror. She touched her own tiara, wrapped delicately across her forehead. The simple metal band that showed her royal status. It had been one of the pieces her mother never removed. Though she was a soldier, she was a queen as well, and would let none forget that. Allura did the same, only removing the band when she bathed, and replacing it immediately after.

Just like her mother, Queen Erisae of Altea, Blue Paladin of Voltron.

In the back of her mind, the Blue lion rumbled into peace, calmed by the memory of a paladin long past.

 

Day 9:

Everyone was at breakfast that morning. They all looked tired in different ways, but they were all present. Allura looked around the table at her weary paladins. They needed something to take their mind off of Lance. It was as good a time as any.

“I have an idea for a project,” she said cheerily, just as Shiro spoke.

“I want us all to talk about the footage we have of Lance.”

The table went silent.

“Shiro—” Keith said. Shiro stopped him with a hand.

“Not to say that I agree with the idea of us watching it, but I do recognize that, as far as understanding Lance’s physical health, it may become necessary for us to at some point confront the tapes. I don’t want to dictate what we do or don’t do. I won’t be that kind of leader. But, if at any point we choose to watch the tapes, it will be a unanimous team decision, and only in a  scenario when it will have a direct benefit to Lance. I don’t want our morbid curiosity to lead us into his personal experiences.” Shiro finished, nodding to the others around the table.

Pidge was looking at him, her eyes calculating. He sent her a small smile, and the furrow between her eyebrows deepened. Hunk was looking at him, eyes just as questioning as Pidge’s. Keith wasn’t looking at him at all. Shiro sighed.

“Well, go ahead,” he said. Immediately the younger three were bombarding him with questions.

“But isn’t now a time where we don’t understand his physical health? Shouldn’t we—”

“After all that, I was starting to agree with you. I don’t know if we should ever watch them—”

“But how will we know when he’s at risk? What level of risk is enough to justify—”

“And Shiro, are you sure that _you’re_ okay with this? I mean, considering...  Would you want to do this?”

Allura looked around the table as the others threw themselves into debate about Lance and the information they had on him. Quietly, Allura pushed herself away from the table and snuck from the room. She walked to the med bay, checking again on Lance. She didn’t know how long she had stood there, just looking at him in his pod before Keith spoke, startling her from her reverie.

“You’ve been down here a lot in the past few days,” He said, walking towards her. He joined her in front of Lance’s pod, standing with his hands in his pockets and just watching the other boy.

“Yes, well, my— the blue lion gets restless and she presses into my mind. It calms her to see him.”

“Hm,” Keith responded, never taking his eyes from Lance.

“I’ve seen you in here less,” Allura said.

“Well, Coran doesn’t like me and Hunk hanging out in here and, a lot of times I’d dropped by recently, the room had been… otherwise occupied.”

“My apologies,” Allura murmured. “I didn’t mean to inhibit your time with him.”

Keith said nothing. Face tightening as Lance twitched in the pod. Allura’s eyes worked between the two of them.

“He will be alright. Not immediately, probably not soon, but eventually he will be alright. And you’ll get him back.” At that, Keith turned to look at her, his eyes calculating and ears lowered. He sighed, taking a step back.

“I should go. After the mess that was breakfast, Shiro wants to do some group exercises.”

“How did that go? The discussions about the footage?”

“It’s unclear. But we all seem willing to vote to view them should the need arise.”

“Would you be able to do that? To see him like that? To see what was—”

“If it will help us help him, then yes,” Keith said quickly, looking away from her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean— rather… I know that it’s already hard for you to see someone for whom you care so deeply in pain,” Keith stiffened, eyes widening a fraction, but he remained resolutely facing Lance. “Seeing that pain inflicted won’t be easy for any of you. I don’t actually believe this will benefit the team, not assuaging, but affirming our own fears.”

“Then you should talk to Shiro. I know he values your opinion.” And then Keith left, shoulders stiff as he exited the med bay.

Allura stayed in the room for much of the day. Re-emerging only for meals. Her head was pounding. For whatever reason, Blue had been especially restless. She paced the med bay, keeping her eyes on Lance and muttering comforts in Altean until she grew tired. When it was time for bed, she retired to her room, dressing in her nightgown and slipping between the covers. Thankfully, sleep came quickly that night, despite the blue lion’s restless prowling.

And in the middle of the night, she was awakened by an alert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visit me on [tumblr](https://profoundprincessface.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> I love talking to you guys!


	14. Act 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Lance comes out of the pod tomorrow? As in like tomorrow tomorrow (wait I think it's already tomorrow) or tomorrow in the story... both are good, but I think you mean in the story, lol."
> 
> TURN UP FOR ACTUAL TOMORROW!!!  
> (or like Today. Whatever)
> 
> I Love you all So Much. Every comment makes my goddamn day. I just want to adopt all of you, but that's not a viable life choice because I'm broke af.
> 
> Anywho.
> 
> WELCOME TO ACT 2
> 
> Feat.
> 
> A questionable plotline, weeks in the making. Longer chapters than Act 1. and of course
> 
> A Plethora of Angst.
> 
> As usual, please let me know about any trigger or content warnings I need to add.   
> For this chapter, maintained warnings for medical situations, mild violence, and me being unnecessarily mean to our fam.
> 
> Nearly 5000 words this chapter! I hope you enjoy them!
> 
> xoxo  
> ~Tay

The alert went off in the middle of the night. Hunk lurched out of bed, racing through the castle in his pajamas. He ran into the bright room and found the rest of the team. The markers of sleep were visible— wrinkled pajamas, mussed hair— but everyone was wide awake as they stood and waited. The beeping and whirs of machinery slowed into silence and there was a series of clicks as mechanisms began to release. Hunk looked across the room and met Keith’s worried eyes.

Lance was finally coming out of the healing pod. He had been in there more than a week longer than expected considering his injuries going in. Hairline fractures and an infection should have been resolved in two days— maybe three. He had been in the pod for nine, each more torturous than the last. Even Allura had grown tense with worry, despite every effort to reassure her paladins. 

The morning of day seven, they’d had a group meeting. They were worried that there was an unknown trauma somewhere within Lance that was keeping his from recovering. The fact that he had been found in a laboratory only seemed to confirm this. Allura and Coran were still reading through Lance’s files from the room he’d been found in, but in the few places where they weren’t written in Druda, they were incomplete and indecipherable. Even so, nothing hinted at physical blockages or issues within him, so they decided to wait for Lance to come out of the pod naturally. 

Apparently, that moment was now.

After the team discussions of the past week, they had decided it would be best if everyone was present, but distanced from Lance. They didn’t know how he would react coming out of the pod. Just because he was healed didn’t mean he was well.

They all situated themselves around the room. Allura and Coran were by the bed, ready with all the supplies they would need to check Lance’s vitals, and Pidge, Hunk and Keith were along the wall. Shiro waited outside the pod. He was least likely to become overwhelmed (either emotionally or physically) by Lance should the other boy react poorly, and had the strength to subdue him if necessary. 

Pidge reached down and took Hunk’s hand, squeezing gently. Hunk squeezed back, and looked briefly to Keith, placing a hand on his shoulder. Keith barely glanced at him, nodding his thanks without removing his attention from the pod. 

The pod’s mechanisms slowed into silence and the glass began to lift. Lance’s eyes fluttered briefly as the internal supports released. He gasped, eyes flying open, as his shaking legs sent him falling out of the pod. He threw his arms out in front of him, bracing himself for impact. Shiro caught him gently in his arms and held him steady for a minute, waiting to see if Lance would speak, or be able to take his own weight. No one moved as Lance slowly blinked, wincing from the bright med bay lights and turning his head towards the floor. He moved his hands to hold onto Shiro’s biceps and tried to find his legs.

“T-tarnec?” he stuttered. He coughed weakly and Shiro braced him in his arms, supporting Lance’s diminished weight beneath his shoulders.

“Lance?” Shiro said carefully. “It’s Shiro. Do you know where you are?” Lance’s hands clenched against Shiro’s arms and he blinked again in rapid succession. He tilted his head up towards Shiro and startled, going still in Shiro’s arms. He began to shake. “You’re safe, Lance. Can you walk?” Shiro asked gently, stepping out to show Lance the path to the bed. “I just want you to lay down.”

Lance continued to shake, either refusing or unable to respond. His eyes twitched as if he wanted to look around the room but was afraid to take his eyes off of Shiro. Shiro slowly stepped closer again, taking Lance’s weight back into his arms. He moved backwards, towing Lance in the direction of  the bed, but Lance pulled against him, wincing as he tried to put pressure on his scarred leg.

“It’s okay, you’re safe. You’re okay, Lance,” Shiro murmured, stopping all movement to focus on gently holding Lance upright. “It’s Shiro. The rest of your friends are here. We just want to know you’re okay.”

But Lance was shaking in his arms, teeth chattering as he struggled to form words. He looked around, finally noticing the others in the room, and jumped, pulling himself backwards. Shiro didn’t let him fall, but loosened his grip enough that Lance could move. Lance pulled out of Shiro’s grip  and leaned heavily against the mouth of the healing pod behind him. His breathing picked up and his eyes tore around the room.

“Lance, you’re safe,” Shiro said again, showing Lacne his upturned palms. “We aren’t going to hurt you. We just want to make sure you’re healthy.”

Allura stepped towards Lance and Shiro and Lance froze, not even daring to breathe as he watched her. She tapped Shiro on the back and they exchanged a look. Shiro stepped back, letting Allura try to approach Lance.

“Lance, how are you feeling?” she said gently. He said nothing, choosing to look around the room with suspicious eyes. Shiro and Allura shared a worried look, before turning back to him. “Can I help you to the bed? I just want to check your vitals and make sure you’re okay.” Lance pressed himself against the healing pod, practically stepping back into it as he moved away from Allura.

“Lance, do you know where you are?” Shiro asked. Lance remained silent. “Do you know who I am?”

Everyone waited, hoping for some kind of response, but Lance did nothing, staring at them with distrustful eyes. Lance quickly shook his head, the movement practically just a twitch.

“No, you don’t know where you are? Or don’t know who I am?” Shiro asked. Lance was silent. Allura looked helplessly at Shiro. “I’m Shiro,” he said, gesturing to himself with his human hand. “You’re in the medical wing of the Castle of Lions.” At that, Lance’s eyes turned frantic, once again moving quickly around the room. 

“This— this isn’t— this can’t be—,” he whimpered. He started to hyperventilate, his protruding ribs sliding against the healing suit as he gasped for air.

“Lance, we need you to remain calm,” Allura said, raising her hands placatingly.

“What does that  _ mean _ ,” Lance yelled, suddenly fierce. As quickly as it came, the strength left, and he sunk to the ground, curling into himself. He clutched at his head, scratching his nails through his short hair as he rocked himself back and forth, murmuring unintelligibly to himself. Allura squatted and reached towards him, but he flinched so violently that she froze. 

“It’s okay, Lance. You’re safe,” Allura said. “We just want to help you.”

“Stop calling me that!” Lance snarled suddenly. His eyes grew hard and his lip drew back into a scowl. “I’m not ‘rashtan,’ or ‘pet’ or whatever  _ that _ means! Now tell me the truth! Who are you?” Lance snapped, chest heaving as he tried to pull himself back into a standing position. He swayed violently and gripped the healing pod for support.

“I’m Allura. I just want to check your vitals and make sure you’re healthy.”

“And who are they? Why are they here? What do they want?” Lance snapped, eyes flicking around the room. Allura looked back at Pidge, Hunk, and Keith. Keith was shaking, held in place by Hunk’s stressed grip on his shoulder. Pidge looked on with fearful eyes. On the other side, stood Coran stoic, but attentive. 

“Lance, they are your friends. Other people who want to make sure you’re okay. They are the rest of Voltron—”

Suddenly, Lance groaned, clutching his head and sinking to the floor. His eyes rolled back in his head and his body began to convulse. Allura and Shiro dropped to the floor beside him and a monitor on the far side of the room began to beep loudly.

“Pidge, what is that?” Shiro asked quickly, eyes never leaving Lance as he shook on the ground. She ran to the console.

“It’s the heart rate monitor inside the suit. It’s giving us a warning,” she yelled, turning helplessly towards Shiro.

“Coran,” Allura called, but the older man was already moving. He ran to the far side of the room, grabbing a series of syringes from the cabinet. But, as he moved towards the trio on the ground, Lance grew still.

Shiro leaned over Lance’s head where it was cradled in his lap. He pressed two fingers to the pulse point behind his jaw and found it steady and strong. He breathed a sigh of relief and looked across Lance’s body to Allura. Before she could speak, Lance’s eyes snapped open and he growled something in Galra. Shiro flinched, eyes flicking down to Lance.

“Lanc—” But his question was cut off as Lance whirled around. He struck Shiro in the chest and threw him flat on his back and sat on his chest to pin him. Lance wrapped his hands around Shiro’s throat.

“Lance, no!” Allura shouted, surging forwards. She grabbed Lance around his chest, pulling him off of Shiro and into the air, but he struggled against her grip. She winced as he clawed at her hands and barely kept her grip as he threw an elbow backwards into her jaw. Coran rushed forwards with one of the syringes, but Lance only struggled harder, throwing a foot into the older man’s chest and sending him sprawling onto the ground. The syringe clattered away across the med bay floor. 

Lance threw his elbow into the curve of Allura’s and there was a sickening pop as the joint dislocated. Allura shouted in pain and, with only one arm holding him, Lance threw himself from her arms and kicked her backwards into Shiro, who barely managed to keep them both upright. Lance lunged towards Coran, striking out with an arm. Coran grabbed the incoming hand and twisted it behind Lance’s back. He set an arm against Lance’s chest and held him steady, using his full strength to keep him from getting away. Shiro turned from where he’d left Allura on the ground to find Pidge, handing him another syringe.

“In his thigh,” she said, turning to help Allura.

Shiro rushed towards Coran, opening himself up. Lance took the bait, kicking at his chest with his good leg. Shiro grabbed Lance’s leg around the knee and pushed the needle into the muscle above it. Almost immediately, Lance’s muscles relaxed, though his eyes stayed open. It was then that Shiro noticed that his irises, usually a clear blue, were darkened, practically violet. Coran released Lance’s arms and held him gently as the sudden aggression faded.

A tear leaked from one of Lance’s now drooping eyes. He looked past Shiro at something behind him and a sob hiccuped out of him. Shiro turned around and saw Keith, ears laid back in concern and eyes wide. He was trapped in Hunk’s grip, held back by his arms.

Lance’s eyes fluttered closed and he fell unconscious. Coran laid him down on one of the sick beds. He pulled the blankets over him then reached for the built in restraints on the rails by the bed.

“Coran,” Hunk rasped, throat tight with emotion. “Is that really necessary?” Coran looked at Hunk with sad eyes, but nodded.

“Unfortunately, we do not know when Lance will wake from the sedative or if he will be a danger to us when he does. Until we know that he can harm neither us nor himself, it is best that we keep him safe.”

No one said anything. Keith and Hunk stepped to the bedside and leaned over, looking down at their friend as Coran tightened the restraints around his scarred wrists. Next, Coran crossed to Pidge and Allura where they were on the ground.

“I gave her something for the pain,” Pidge said. “I wanted to just try and shift it back in place, but the scan I did says there’s ligament damage. I think she needs to go into a pod.” 

Keith zoned out, eyes sliding listlessly around the room as he tried to make sense of what happened. Allura was injured, Shiro was slumped against the wall, rubbing his chest where Lance had kicked him and bruises were already forming against his throat. Keith looked at Lance, dangerously thin, face slack in his drug induced sleep. It didn’t make sense. Even on his best days, Lance would have struggled in a fight against Shiro or Allura. Any of them would have. But just now, underweight, fresh out of kryo, he took on Shiro and both Alteans without breaking a sweat.

Pidge and Coran got Allura situated in a healing pod. Coran pulled one of the chairs in the room alongside Lance’s bed, groaning as he sat down.

“Coran, are you okay?” Pidge asked, stepping towards him with the scanner, but he waved her off.

“I’ll be fine, number 5. Thank you.” He straightened up in his seat, looking around the room. “I’ll sit with him and Allura. She should only be in the pod for one earth hour, likely less. The sedative we gave Lance would keep an Altean out for five to seven hours. He should sleep until nearly lunch-time. In the meantime, I, and Allura when she is healed, will run a few tests on Lance. It’s possible that this aggression could be the hormone imbalance we picked up last week.”

“Allura said that was probably anxiety,” Keith said, finally tearing his eyes away from Lance’s sleeping form. 

“And it still could be. It is possible that this is just Lance’s behaviour now, and we will have to help him come back to himself.”

“But does he even know who he is?” Keith asked, voice cracking.

“Keith, buddy…”

“Hunk, Lance didn’t recognize Shiro.” Hunk’s eyebrows drew together, eyes flicking towards Lance. “ He didn’t recognize us, doesn’t know where he is—” Keith was breathing hard, his purple fingers clenched around one the guard rails on the bed. “How do we fix that?” Hunk wrapped his arms around Keith’s shaking shoulders, trying to calm the other boy down, but even Hunk looked distressed.

“Shiro?” Pidge said, looking uncertainly to the older paladin. Shiro swallowed, eyes drawing tight as he looked at the younger trio. 

“For right now… For right now, we go rest. Let Coran and Allura run some tests. We’ll know more then. Coran will let us know if Lance wakes up earlier than expected or if Allura needs help. But, for now, let’s all go back to bed; try to get some sleep.”

 

* * *

 

Once the others left, Coran stood out of his chair and went to work. He took blood samples from Lance and set about testing for anything that could potentially explain his strange behavior. After about forty minutes, Allura was released from the healing pod. She stumbled out, refusing Coran’s help when he offered it, and took a seat while she waited for the chill of kryo to leave her. 

“Any results from the blood tests?” She asked, getting to her feet. Coran went to the far side of the med bay, where a number of blood samples spun and vibrated in different conditions.

“Unfortunately, yes.” he said, pulling Allura to one of the finished tests.

“Isn’t that a good thin—” she stopped, looking down at the scans Coran handed her. “Oh X’hal.”

“Oh X’hal is right, princess. According to this, Lance’s blood is carrying druidic energies.”

“Can a human even survive that?”

“I’m not entirely sure. The fact that it’s there even after his time in the pod makes me fear that it’s thoroughly integrated into his body. In which case, it’s just as dangerous to try and get it out as it is to leave it in.”

“Do you think the druid magic explains his behavior?”  
“I’m not sure if they’re linked or not. But it could be a contributing factor.” Coran’s hand drifted to his bruised chest. “He’s much too strong for how malnourished he is. It’s possible that the druid magic inside of him is bolstering his natural physical abilities.”

“But this is more than just bolstering, Lance should need rehabilitation for the muscle damage to his leg. Those tears went through to the bone. Just because the pod creates new sinews, doesn’t mean that they’re full-strength upon exit. He kicked me halfway across the room.” Allura pulled up a holoscreen of Lance’s body going into the pod and her eyes narrowed. “I don’t know how we wouldn’t have discovered this earlier.”

“Well, it’s possible that the extra time Lance spent in the pod was his body’s way of finding a way to cope with the druidic traces in his bloodstream.” Coran said, coming to stand beside her. 

“But that should have shown up in an earlier test—”

“This was our first opportunity to get a blood sample. The pods can only read so far, Allura.”

“But Coran, this could mean that allowing him to stay in the pod put him at greater risk.”

“It also could have saved his life and ours.”

“Coran—”

“Allura. Assuming that this energy used the extra days in the pod to manifest in Lance—”

“Which is dangerous for his human body—”

“Had we pulled Lance out while there was raw druidic energy in his body,he likely would have died then and there. And if he hadn’t, he could have easily overpowered both as and Shiro. X’hal knows the others wouldn’t have stood a chance.  ” Coran said stiffly. Allura froze.

“Coran, say that again.”

“Princess?”

“Had we pulled Lance out of the pod any earlier…”

“The raw druidic energy inside of him, combined with the aggression we  just saw—”

“They wanted him to…” Both set of Altean eyes turned to the sleeping boy on the bed. Allura felt the sting of tears behind her eyes. On the bed, Lance shifted in his sleep, flexing against the bonds on his wrists. He flinched, whimpering quietly, before falling still again. Coran cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the weight that had settled there.

“I don’t believe we should share this with the others.” he said calmly.

“Coran—”

“Not until we know how to fix it.”

“Coran, we have to tell them. Lance is our friend—”

“Allura,” He snapped, looking over at her. “Those four have already struggled through nearly two full months of stress surrounding him. This will be too much. At least let us think of a solution. We can’t just hand them more unresolved problems.”

“Voltron is  _ for _ unresolved problems.”

“Voltron, yes. But those are four humans, worn down from stress and worry.”  Allura opened her mouth to argue, but Coran silenced her with a hand. “Let us at least wait until he has woken up again and we know whether or not his behaviour is the same.”

“And if it is? Which it likely will be?” Allura said, crossing her arms. 

“Then we will discuss it with the others. But for now, let them rest.”

“And what about the druid energy? Are we just going to let it stay in him?”

“For now, he is stable. I want to run more tests, see if I can pin down the effect that the energy is having on his physiology. While removing it could be dangerous to Lance, it might be what is safest for the others.” Coran swiped the holoscreen out of existence and looked over at Allura. “Only time will tell, Princess. Now go rest. I’ll stay with the boy.”

“I can not just ‘go rest.’ He is a danger to you and our team.”

“Princess—”

“How am I supposed to rest knowing that at any given time the energy could overwhelm him? It could kill him. He could kill you!”

“You’re overreacting—”

“Coran, you’re biased. You don’t want to see him as a danger, but we have to agree that he is a hazard.”

“And what would you have us do with him?”

“Well certainly not just leave him lying here. What are you going to do when he wakes up?”

“Allura, these restraints are made to hold even the strongest Altean.”

“And he overpowered two Alteans today.”

“Just because he isn’t himself, doesn’t mean we can treat him like some halskraff.”

“We ought to.”

“Allura,” Coran said warningly.

“I’m worried about you!” She snapped, eyes burning. “And the rest of my team! And X’hal help me, I will do what I must to make sure nothing happens to you!” Allura yelled, fingers curling into fists.

“ _ Lance _ is a member of your team.”

“Not this version of him. This isn’t the Lance we know. He has been  _ weaponized _ by dark magic,” She turned away, rubbing her temples. “I should’ve known. I should’ve known when they told me the druid  _ let _ us take him, but— we were just— I was so relieved.”

“Princess…” Coran said, stepping towards her.

“And now this,” she spat, looking at Lance with disgust. “Druids are an abomination and now they’ve made him one too.”

“I think it’s time that you go to bed, Allura,” Coran said, voice firm. “You’re exhausted, physically and emotionally.”

“But Lance—”

“Will stay here for the night. Let me have until morning. I’ll run more tests, I’ll do more research. This has to be reversible.”

Allura fixed Coran with a stare, eyes narrowed, searching his face.

“You have until morning. In the morning I’m telling the others and we will decide what to do with him.” Coran nodded, turning back to the workstation. He heard Allura walk to the door, then pause.

“Be careful, Coran.”

And then she left, leaving him alone with Lance, still unconscious on the bed.

 

* * *

 

Shiro jolted awake an hour after laying down. His heart was pounding against his sore ribs and his hand flew immediately to his bruised throat. Even though he had insisted on resting, it seemed his mind had other plans. Lance rushing at him— eyes feral, mouth snarling— kept replaying in his mind. 

There was something to the look of him, the fire behind his usually playful eyes, the warrior look on his boyish face, that sent Shiro straight back to him time in captivity. People would disappear with the druids and come back monsters. They would return with a bloodlust previously unseen. At first it had only been a theory, a rumour that spread through the cells at night— The Karsa, something the druids did to you that took away reason and replaced it with pure instinct: fight or flight. It turned even the most timid of prisoners into vicious fighter but now, knowing that Lance had been operated on and seeing how he behaved coming out of the pod, Shiro was sure. It seemed that the same thing had happened to Lance.

Shiro struggled to calm his breathing. He needed to tell Allura and Coran. Maybe, if they knew about The Karsa, they could reverse the effects. He got out of bed, ignoring his shaking legs and made for the door, only for it to open as he approached, he sprung back, arm flashing purple for just a second before—

“It’s just me!” Keith said, shrinking back with his hands raised. “It’s just me, Shiro.” He lowered his hands slowly and took in Shiro, shaky breaths, drying sweat on his face. Keith straightened up and took a step into the room. “Couldn’t sleep either?”

“No,” Shiro said, pressing his face into his hand and leaning against the wall.

“Yeah. Hunk is awake too, at least he was a bit ago. I don’t know about Pidge, but I don’t even think she sleeps to start with.” Keith lapsed into silence. He looked into the room. Shiro’s bedroom on the ship was a lot like his had been at the Garrison: Functional. There were a few trinkets on display— crystals and dried flowers gifted to him after rescue missions— but nothing else. Other than the still mussed bed, the room was spotless. 

“I’m gonna—” 

“Are you okay?” Keith asked, gaze floating to the bruising on Shiro’s throat. Shiro swallowed once without saying anything. “I mean, That was really freaky downstairs. I don’t think any of us could’ve expected Lance to respond like… I guess I’m just wondering—”

“I’m okay, Keith.” Shiro said. Keith’s mouth snapped shut and he nodded.

“Ok. Good. Just checking—”

“Are you?”

“I wasn’t just attacked,” Keith said. Shiro said nothing, sighing as the other boy seemed to retreat further into himself. He lay a hand on Keith’s shoulder, letting it rest there. As much as Keith hated to admit it, just that small action, that moment of physical connection, was just what he’d needed. He chuckled to himself. Somehow, Shiro always knew what to do.

 

* * *

 

He was floating. Not the quiet, cold floating, but a different kind. He was aware of himself. He was—

Warmth. A heat in the front of his mind, like a memory of the sun or like Nurav’s fingers, digging, prying, taking from him—

He knew he was awake. His eyes were open. White room. Somewhere medical. He was restrained, but he wasn’t in glass. His eyes twitched open.

He knew this place. He didn’t know how, but he knew he had been there. 

The heat in the front of his mind swelled and he was terrified. He was strapped down: that meant they were going to hurt him—Get free. Get away—  _ Val krasa ne lito, mae Nuravskan _ —

Something moved. Look for source. Something in the back of his mind says friend—

The Heat says fight. Have to get away. Have to get safe—

 

* * *

 

Shiro walked from Keith’s room down to the med bay. After finding the younger paladin outside his door, they had spent a few hours together, sometimes talking, sometimes sitting in silence, just needing each other’s company. Finally, Keith had decided to try sleeping, and Shiro had sent the other boy off to his room. Afterwards, he headed downstairs to the med bay. He stopped a few places along the way, making sure that Hunk wasn’t in the kitchen or Pidge still in her lab, and, when he was content, he walked into the shining med-bay. 

He found Coran struggling to subdue Lance. He was straining against his bonds, which looked close to snapping open at the pressure. He snarled at Coran, who was trying to retrieve some medical convoluted device from around his head. 

“Coran, get away from him!” Shiro shouted, dashing into the room.

“No can do, number 2,” Coran managed through grunts. He jumped back, snatching his hand away from Lance’s teeth before leaning over him again. Shiro came to help, pushing his hands against Lance’s shoulders to try and keep the boy still while Coran reached again for the headpiece.

“We need to put him under again. Why is he even awake?” Shiro yelled over the sound of the screaming heart monitor and Lance’s jumbled growls.

“Not with the scanner still on him. Putting him under now could kill him,” Coran said, diving back in trying to remove the convoluted headpiece. 

“What?” Shiro asked, voice shrill.

“Try and— quiznak— Shiro, hold his head still.” Shiro looked shaken, but complied, pinning Lance’s shoulders with his elbows and pressing his hands against the sides of Lance’s head. He couldn’t keep him completely still, but it reduced the amount to which he could twist around, allowing Coran to loosen a joint on the scanner enough to pull it off. They both immediately sprung back, panting, as Lance began to thrash and jerk against his bonds. 

Coran stepped back, setting down the scanner and grabbing another syringe full of sedative. Lance doubled his efforts as Coran approached, jerking as the needle pressed into his thigh, but, a second later, he melted against the sheets. A minute later his eyes slid closed and his breathing evened out.

“Coran, what was that thing?”

“It’s a scanner. It keeps track of all bodily functions, similar to the pods, but this has emergency protocols in place. The sedative’s first component is a powerful muscle relaxer. Had we used it while Lance was wearing the scanner, it would have registered him as dying and tried to shock him back to life.”

“From his head? But that would’ve—”

“Exactly.” Shiro scrubbed a head through his hair, looking helplessly between Lance and the scanner on the counter.

“Okay. So the scanner is useful, but dangerous. Got it. Why was he even up? You said he’d be out until the middle of the day.”

“I must have miscalculated. Lance’s body burned through the sedative at the rate of a young Altean. He woke up just as I finished the preliminary scan.”

“So you have to do it again?”

“Yes. Don’t worry, if I start now, he’ll sleep through the entire process.”

“And this is all safe for him?”

“Of course,” Coran said, looking wide-eyed at Shiro. “I promise, I’m doing everything I can to help him. There are just variables we can’t know right now.” Shiro nodded, looking over at Lance’s prone form.

“Actually, there’s one thing we know. Or at least, something I think could help.” Shiro’s eyes turned hard as he turned to look at Coran. “The way Lance acted coming out of the pod, it was similar to something I saw while imprisoned. They used to give it to prisoners who were due in the arena but who weren’t quite… vicious enough. They called it The Karsa. I think the word is Druda? Maybe Galra, but—”

“Druidic energies,” Coran whispered to himself.

“What?”

“Shiro,” the other man said suddenly, face serious like Shiro had never seen. “I need you to tell me everything you know about this ‘Karsa.’ For Lance’s sake, and ours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! Leave kudos! I crave validation! Send me a comment!
> 
> Love it? Hate it? both?
> 
> Lemme know, either here, or on my [tumblr](https://profoundprincessface.tumblr.com/)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She Lives!
> 
> What up you beautiful mofos. Boy oh boy have I got a Chapter for y'all. 
> 
> 'Tay, what took so long?' you ask lovingly, pretending that the long update wait wasn't annoying.
> 
> The fact that there's 7500 words of pure plot here, that's what.
> 
> So here's how the rest of the fic will go: Act 2 chapters are all longer than average, so updates will be every other week with occasional Outtakes on in-between weeks. (Check out the end note for a poll as to what the next outtake should be. I can't decide) Updates will be any weekend day, from Thursday to Sunday. Consistency is a social construct to which I don't subscribe.
> 
> Warnings on this chapter for fake science, magic, and what are probably obvious plot holes.
> 
> As alway, let me know if there are trigger or content warnings I need to add.
> 
> *blows kisses from the darkest reaches of the galaxy*  
> ~tay
> 
> Update: The links to the outtakes from this chapter are now embedded in the text as well as in the end note!

Allura went down to the med bay and found Shiro and Coran looking critically at blood samples.

“Shiro? What brings you down here?” Allura asked, crossing to the lab side of the med bay.

“Shiro knows about the frenzy that has overtaken Lance,” Coran said, not looking away from the blood samples. “He’s helping me discover a non-fatal solution for Lance.”

“Non-fatal? This will kill him?” 

“We’re not sure, but it seems likely,” Shiro said, turning to Allura. “The Karsa was supposed to turn people into these super-warriors known as Karsan, but no one knew for sure what happened to someone after a fight. It varied across species. Some prisoners would be given the Karsa and they would live in that aggression until they were finally defeated in the ring. Others would only be affected by it for one fight, maybe half, before all of their energy, all of their life force, just drained out of them. I’m worried that the latter could happen to Lance.”

“But both of those methods had the affected individual fighting their way through the energy given them. Was there no way to overcome this without fighting?”

“I don’t know. Karsan were always just avoided. Anything they saw, they attacked, and others rarely had the strength to overtake them,” Shiro said, eyes growing distant. 

“Shiro and I are trying to find a way to remove the druidic energy from Lance without having him exhaust himself further. His body is too weak as is,” Coran said, waving Allura over to look at some of the experiments he was running. As they were created, results shone on a holoscreen.

“But wouldn’t the energy burn out of him quickly in that case? I mean, considering his current physical state, wouldn’t it just run its courseif we were to keep him awake?” Allura said, coming to compare the slides showing Lance’s contaminated blood and a clean sample that Allura assumed came from Shiro. 

“Yes, it would run its course,” Shiro said hesitantly, “but who knows how long that would take or what would happen to Lance during that time. Those aren’t risks we can afford to take.”

“You think it would be better wasting time developing an experimental cure? We have a number of resources available to us, but countering druid magic?”

“But if we don’t try—”

“But if we try and fail.” Allura fixed Shiro with a look, eyes serious and sad. “I don’t want us to waste time. Lance is a danger to himself and the rest of us. We can’t keep him under sedation indefinitely. That just lets the energy remain in his system, forcing its way out when he wakes up.”

“I just don’t want to risk fatiguing him any further,” Shiro said firmly. “Lance’s body is weak. We shouldn’t trade his safety for the quick and easy way through this.”

“I don’t want us to lose time trying cures that we aren’t sure about.” Allura looked over at Coran, who was steadfastly ignoring her and Shiro, remaining focused on the vials he was heating. “And don’t we want to bring him through this as soon as possible?”

“Yes, but not if it could _kill him_ to do so.”

“We will not let him die. We have state of the art facilities—”

“That we can use to do research—” 

“With what scientists? Coran can run rudimentary tests, but we know exceptionally little about developing medicine, especially medicine to counter druid magic. You’re asking too much of us.”

“We can figure something out—”

“And what happens to Lance in that time? Keep him sedated? Three doses of Torival a day and feed him through a tube?”

“Six doses, Princess,” Coran said without looking up.

“Pardon?” Allura said.The older Altean turned towards her, pulling off his gloves and wiping his brow.

“Six doses of Torival in a day. While it should keep him out for eight hours at a time, he’s burning through it twice as quickly— likely due to the changes in his blood chemistry.”

“So—”

“He woke up in the middle of the night, while I was scanning him. He awoke… distressed.Shiro helped me get the scanner off and sedate him again.”

“But he's already had two doses of Torival? Is that safe?” Coran looked uncertain. 

“Other than going through it more quickly than usual, there have been no worrisome side effects.” Allura opened her mouth to protest and Coran stopped her with a hand. “I don’t like it either princess, but there’s nothing to be done.” Allura’s mouth set into a hard line.

“I will say nothing more on the matter. We’ll discuss this as a team and make a plan. Today.” Shiro looked unhappy, but nodded. “Coran, how much longer should he be asleep?”

“Around two more hours. Maybe two and a half.” Allura gave a sharp nod and headed towards the door.

“I’m calling the others to the bridge. We’re going to discuss this immediately and find a solution.”

 

* * *

 

“Absolutely not,” Hunk said, glaring at Keith. Shiro stood tensely to the side, resisting the urge to intervene. They had been talking on the bridge for barely an hour, and already everyone seemed in far worse moods than when they had started. Coran and Shiro had quickly presented Lance’s medical situation to the others, and now they had to make a choice on how to proceed.

They could either keep Lance sedated and restrained indefinitely until they develop a cure for The Karsa; or let Lance work the druid energy out of him and use the available medical technology to keep him from dying as The Karsa drains his body of all energy.

“It’s too dangerous to just let this ‘run its course,’ Hunk. He’s too underweight, too weak for something like that. I don’t wanna take that risk.” Keith said, trying and failing to keep his skin from flushing purple with rage. He had certainly improved recently with holding a more human form, but any sort of stress or intense stimulus sent him purple.

“Keith, we aren’t scientists,” Pidge said, coming to stand between the two boys. “Coran and Allura are already stretched to keep the med bay up and running and to look after us. Developing something to counteract druid magic? That’s beyond our abilities.”

“We won’t know that until we try.”

“The castle can’t even _translate_ Druda. The language is too young and the castle has been in stasis for 10,000 years. We can’t figure out what it was in the druid magic that triggered your change—” Keith flinched at the reference, his ears twitching back and he longed to cover them, but Pidge powered on, unaware or uncaring. “— and we know nothing more now than we di then. We can’t take on druid magic. Not like this.”

“So you’d rather have Lance work himself to death and hope for the best afterwards?”

“Honestly, yes.”

“Unbelievable,” Keith said, turning away. “I can’t—”

“Keith,” Hunk said. “We know human bodies. And this will just be extreme exhaustion. As long as nothing fails—”

“You mean as long as his heart doesn’t give out,” Keith growled. 

“Keith, reign it in,” Shiro said firmly. The younger boy turned to glare at him.

“Me? I’m on _your_ side. I think we should look for a cure rather than just giving him over to—”

“We aren’t ‘giving him over to’ The Karsa.” Hunk yelled. “We’re doing what we know works, rather than wasting time on research that we aren’t even qualified to do.”

“Allura and Hunk are right, Keith.” Pidge said.

“Pidge—”

“Usually I’m all for figuring out a solution, sciencing my way through whatever just happened. But for this we need more than just me, Allura, and Coran hacking it out. We’d either need to get outside help— which takes time and still doesn’t guarantee we fix him— or we need to go ahead and do what we know will work.”

“But we know it’ll hurt him,” Keith said, voice tight. The room fell quiet. “He’s already— there’s already been so much—”

“Keith...” Hunk said quietly, reaching towards his friend.

“I don’t wanna be another galra causing him pain.” Keith whispered. 

“Keith,” Pidge said gently. “We get it.”

“Do you, really,” Keith snapped, turning on Pidge.

“Yes.” She said, eyes hard. “No one wants to be the person at fault when things go wrong. We’ve all fucked this up somehow—”

“Pidge,” Shiro warned, but she soldiered on.

“And maybe we’re about to again. But, for all of our blunders, we did something right. He’s here. He’s safe. And, despite all your self-denying whatever-this-shit-is, he’s safe from the galra.” She looked Keith in the eye. “You can’t compare yourself to them. You’re _nothing_ like them. You would never hurt us, especially not Lance.”

Suddenly, a holoscreen flickered to life in the middle of the room.

“That would be the timer,” Coran said, swiping it away. “Lance’s Torival will wear off in the next half hour. Maybe less, maybe more.” He turned to Allura, who had been silently watching the others. “Princess, you wanted to make a decision before we put him under again.”

“That would be ideal,” Allura said with a weary sigh. She looked to her advisor. “Coran, what do you think? You’re the most experienced member of this team. What do you think we should do?”

“Princess, the war I fought alongside your parents was nothing like this. I know battlefield remedies, not dark magic.” He said plainly. 

“But you’ve already done so much,” Shiro said. “Surely—”

“Antitoxin remedies, things to work against physical invaders in the body, that I know. I don’t know how the druidic energy came to be inside Lance. I have no idea how I would get it out.”

“But Coran,” Keith said, “Even you said that Lance is severely weakened right now. Do you really want to risk just letting this stuff ‘run it’s course?’ What if it only looks like the Karsa but is designed to kill him? What if it’s something different, and we’re just waiting forever for him to never snap out of it—”

“Keith, calm down,” Hunk said, barely hiding the tremor in his own voice.

“I will not calm down!” Keith growled. “This our friend’s life we’re dealing with. I won’t let us fuck this up. Lance means more to me than that. I thought he did to you guys too.” Keith turned to leave, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hunk asked, voice completely cold.

“You know what it means,” Keith said without turning around. “I’m not going to risk Lance’s life just because we want the quickest route to what might not even be a cure.” Hunk turned him around with a push, staring him down.

“Look, I get that you’re angry, but you don’t get to imply that you somehow care more about him than the rest of us,” Hunk said, voice deep and tense.

“Look, Hunk—”

“Shut up, Keith.” Hunk warned. ”Or else I’m going to get really mad at you, because you don’t get to imply that you are the only one looking out for Lance. We’re _all_ looking out for Lance.”

“Well it doesn’t feel like it,” Keith snapped. Suddenly, Hunk shoved him.

“I told you to shut up!” Hunk yelled. Shiro jolted forwards ,looking to step between them, but was stopped by Pidge. “I’m sorry that I want my friend back! My _best_ friend. I’m sorry that you’re suspicious and worried and whatever, but so are the rest of us. I don’t care about whatever you and Lance were or weren’t before he was taken, and honestly, I don’t really know if I care how you feel right now. I care about Lance. Lance is my family before he’s your _anything_ , and right now, this is the only solution we have that brings him back to me. So yeah. Maybe it’s selfish to pick this plan. But at least this plan is a plan, not guesswork. If we’re just going to try cures until we find something, while he’s still in pain, then we’re experimenting on him. And how is that any different from the druids.”

The bridge was silent. Keith stared at Hunk wide eyed, ears pressed flat, wary. In all the time he had known Hunk, Keith had never seen the other boy like this. His friendship with Hunk was new, just like his relationship with Lance had been. He hadn’t meant to put it in jeopardy. 

Keith opened his mouth to say something, anything, that could appeal to his friend, but was stopped by Pidge clearing her throat. He looked over to the girl, who was still braced against Shiro, a hand on his chest to keep him from stepping in. She shook her head slowly before turning her attention back to Hunk, who was struggling to regain his composure. There was a stiff minute where no one spoke, or even moved, as he calmed himself— hands clenching and unclenching at his side, breathing slowing to something manageable. When he was ready, he turned to Allura.

“So what’s the plan?” Hunk asked. “If we can’t reach a unanimous decision, which it doesn’t look like we will, what are we going to do?”

Allura’s brow furrowed and she looked down at her arms, which were folded across her chest.

“Well… The best course of action right now would be to seek more information about Lance’s condition. But, the only source we have would be…” Her voice tapered off and she looked up, her eyes finding Shiro’s from across the bridge. 

“You want to look at the tapes,” he said, voice flat.

“Only if the others vote to,” she added hastily. “I don’t think it is… advisable, with how high emotions are currently running, for us to see Lance in that situation, but, it seems like the only thing we could do that would help us work through his current condition. There’s video of him in the laboratory. If Lance and the druid speak, or if Coran and I could even see the process by which he came to…“ She sighed. “It’s the only resource we have, and I would be remiss as a leader to not tap it before making a decision that could affect one of my paladins’— one of my friends’— lives.”

She looked around the bridge. All eyes were either on her or Shiro, who was tense, shoulders drawn into a hard line and arms folded tight across his chest. He was looking at her, eyes stormy with emotion. Something in his look made Allura want to fidget or turn away, but she stood firm. Right now she needed to be princess and leader— to be strong like her mother. 

Shiro let out a long, slow breath.

“All in favor?”

For a second no one moved. Then Pidge’s hand teetered into the air, followed by Hunk’s and then one from Coran. Keith’s ears fell flat against his head as he raised his hand. 

Shiro nodded. “We’ll regroup here in an hour. In the meantime, Coran and I will put Lance back to sleep. I suggest you all prepare yourselves. This will be difficult to watch.”

 

* * *

 

“If at any point you are overwhelmed, please leave. We won’t judge you for not being able to watch. This is research, but it’s also our friend. That’s hard on anybody.” Shiro looked around the room. “Please— and I can’t stress this enough— do not force yourself to stay. You aren’t doing anybody a service by causing yourself more stress than necessary. Alright?”

Everyone nodded and Shiro let out a steadying breath. 

“Shiro?” Pidge said from where she sat at the control panel. They had already chosen which files they would view: since they were only interested in Lance’s current physical health, they would only look at the footage from the lab. Hopefully the druid would let something slip or they could at least see the process by which the druid magic came to be inside of Lance.

Shiro gave her a nod and came to the panel. He entered the password that had been used to lock the files away. Shiro selected the first in the laboratory folder.

No one spoke as a the screen filled and the footage started.

 

_The laboratory was empty for only a moment before the door opened and a large galra walked in. Cradled almost lovingly in his arms was Lance, who was crying and speaking frantically, partly in English, partly in Galra-- though it was unlikely that he realized this._

_The galra shushed him and walked to the table in the center of the room._

_“Quiet, pet.”_

_“Tarnec— you can give me to them— they’ll kill me. Nurav will kill me--”_

_“Nurav will not let you die pet. Zarkon and Haggar have commanded otherwise.”_

_“But Tarnec—“_

_“Hush now.” Tarnec growled, setting Lance down on the table. Lance’s hand were clenched in his uniform, and, even though Lance certainly wasn’t strong enough to pull the galra to him, he leaned over him. He pried Lance’s hands out of the cloth and pinned them to the table._

_“Please… Tarnec…” Lance cried, voice cracking._

_“I said hush!” Tarnec snarled low in his throat and Lance fell quiet with a sob. They watched him cry quietly to himself as the galra moved around the table, strapping Lance to the table. Every time a restraint closed, he whimpered through his sobs, but remained quiet otherwise, no longer begging or pleading with his captor._

_Tarnec strapped in his head last, forcing Lance completely still. He stroked a clawed hand down Lance’s arm something close to gently— avoiding the cuts and bruises that covered his skin. Lance continued to cry._

_“Fear not, little one,” Tarnec purred in galra. “I will be watching. You will make it to Atavan.”_

_“But Tarnec—“_

_“Quiet now, pet. Nurav is coming and I must return to his majesty. I will see you in Atavan.” He ran a hand over Lance’s short hair, then left._

_Then Lance was alone in the room for a long while. He cried himself into silence and maybe even into sleep, growing still on screen, though his breath still hitched sporadically._

 

Shiro looked around the room at the others. They were still holding on it seemed. He clenched his eyes shut for a moment. This was hard. Lance was already malnourished and weak at this point, that much was clear. But there was so much of just _Lance_ that was missing, even before he was tampered with…

Shiro looked up as he heard Hunk gasp.

The druid had come onscreen.

 

_The druid glided around the room, never touching Lance, but drawing close enough for Lance to shudder. The druid chuckled._

_“Well, Rashtan? Aren’t you excited? Of all the work we’ve done together, this will surely be our shining moment. You will arrive in Atavan ready for the grand council, and they will be thrilled with your performance. And, when they are done with you, you shall be remade.” The druid stopped and looked down at Lance with disdain, tutting. “But you’re not even fit to perform, Rashtan. So I must begin to… fix you.”_

_They crossed to a wall filled with wicked utensils and mysterious vials._

_“How should I prepare you? Should I give you back some of that fight from before? The mouthiness that Haskoh and the others hated? Or should I leave you submissive? They like you submissive. Then again, Tarnec is too territorial of you, isn’t that right ‘pet?’” The druid flicked back to Lance, looming over him. They stroked a finger down Lance’s face and the reaction was immediate-- he began to struggle and whimper, pulling against his bonds and trying to turn his head away from the druid’s touch despite being secured in place._

_“Aren’t you going to cry for me?” the druid hissed. They took Lance’s jaw in their hand and he flinched. Surprisingly, the druid undid the restraint around Lance’s head. Lance immediately began to struggle, thrashing about. They heard him choke as the grip on his jaw moved briefly to his throat and he stilled._

_The druid took Lance’s jaw in their hand again and tilted his head back so he was looking into the camera._

_“Your darling Tarnec is watching. You should do something for him.” While Lance’s head was tilted back, the druid pulled a needle and syringe seemingly from nowhere and pressed it into Lance’s neck. He stilled with a gasp for just a moment before his body began to shake, seemingly against his will._

_“Wha—“ he stopped as his throat seemed to close. His mouth opened and closed silently._

_“Pure quintessence, pet. If you are going to survive this, I need you to be strong, if only for a moment.”_

 

Shiro was pulled out of watching by the whispering happening behind him. The two Alteans were whispering in their native tongue. Neither of them had looked away from the feed, but it was obvious from the way that Coran’s stance had hardened that this was the part they had been both worried about and looking for. Shiro’s eyes flicked between the Alteans and the screen as Allura and Coran set about memorizing the processes happening on-screen— the IV’s that began dripping into Lance’s thin arms, the chemicals that the druid made him interact with, and finally— 

 

_“Now, rashtan, it’s time for something special I made for you. No longer will you be weak and docile. With this, you’ll become greater than any Karsan in the ring. Greater even than the Champion in his greatest fights.” The druid said with a laugh, pulling a series of needles off of the wall. Each of them held a strange purple fluid. It moved like molten metal and glowed just as hot. “If you’re going to say something to your darling Tarnec, now would be the time.”_

_Lance’s eyes flicked towards the camera: filled with terror, tears leaking back and into his short hair. Then, quietly, almost unnoticeably, he relaxed. His eyes hardened into a resigned preparedness and he looked up at the druid looming over him. The druid stilled as Lance’s gaze landed on them. The camera can’t see Lance’s face, or the expression that freezes the druid in place._

_“I thought I’d pulled that out of you,” they said, voice cold and still. “Well,” they fit a gag between Lance’s teeth. “This should clear that right away.”_

_They stabbed the first of the needles into Lance’s chest and he jolted. As the fluid disappeared into him, he jerked violently against the bonds holding him in place, his back arching off the table and his eyes rolling back. Even around the gag, they could hear him screaming._

_“They say that introducing this much dark quintessence should happen slowly. But, considering your newfound spirit—“ the druid spat the word, raising another syringe menacingly, “—I think you want more.”_

_Lance thrashed and screamed, unable to move away as the next needle came down, the fluid disappearing into him. At this point his body was shaking uncontrollably. He was slick with sweat and already his throat was raw from screaming._

_“I’ll be back later for your next one, Rashtan.” The druid said, setting the third needle aside for a moment and turning to the controls. The glass lid began to slide up over the table, moving slowly up over Lance’s feet towards his head. He somehow managed to look more frantic as the glass crept over him._

_Then, with a puff of cold chemicals, he grew still._

_The druid left, but the footage continued: quiet, quick beeping told them of Lance’s frantically working heart. For the most part he was still, only ever moving in small ways— a twitch, a shudder._

_Finally, thankfully, the video cuts out._

 

Pidge shakes herself into motion and stops the next one from playing. It takes a moment too long— her hands are shaking too much for the over-sensitive keyboards on the bridge— and they all see the druid return, appearing in the room and reaching for the controls before the screen flickered out of existence. 

For a moment Pidge thought she could hear all of them breathing in unison. It took a moment to realize it was only her own breathing, ringing loud to her ears in the silence that had fallen. Pidge stayed perfectly still as she waited for someone to move, to speak, to somehow confirm that they’d shared some collective nightmare but it was time to wake up and eat breakfast. 

She hadn’t been expecting—well, she hadn’t known what to expect, but hearing Lance scream like that—a sound so tortured and anguished it seemed almost fictional coming from someone whose smiling personality is so infectious. 

Pidge shook herself. She could feel her throat tightening with the desire to cry, but she refuse to cry. Not right now. Lance was still in danger. He was home, but he was still being affected by this dark quintessence. She needed to help figure out how they could save him. Only once there was a solution—and there would be a solution. She would make sure of it—would she cry. For now, she sat up straight, took a deep breath, and turned to the others. 

Her eyes went first to Coran and Allura. Ultimately, any medical decisions to be made would fall on them. How they reacted to this would be pivotal in how they dealt with Lance’s current situation.

Coran was pale, and the line of his shoulders was tense, but something in his face looked almost relieved. Pidge couldn't see Allura’s face, as she had turned towards Coran and was speaking with him in rapid Altean. Suddenly they turned to the rest of the room and, doing so, turned Pidge’s attention to the others.

Shiro was pale, but stoic. His face showed only his role as leader and concerned friend. Hunk had obviously been crying, but had schooled himself into something stern and prepared. Keith was similarly determined, the only sign of his stress his twitching ears, having gone full galra at some point during the clip.

Allura cleared her throat, unnecessary as everyone’s attention was already directed at her, then gifted them all a smile.

“Thank you, paladins. I know that can’t have been easy for you, but I believe it was beneficial. If what the druid said is true, and the effects we’re seeing are caused by dark quintessence— we’ll have to look into this further just to make sure— but, if that is true then it’s possible that the dark energies within him can be removed magically.”

Everyone seemed to jolt at the last word.

“Magically?” Pidge heard herself question. “But this is medical.” She looked around the room. “I mean, shouldn’t we treat it as such?” She looked around the room. The others were all looking at her.

“Pidge, we didn’t really have any ‘medical’ approaches to this. Not ones that seemed safe or efficient,” Hunk said.

“Yeah but… I guess I just worry.”

“Well, we’ve seen magic before. And we know the druids use it, so it makes sense that this could be solved magically.”

“If I may,” Coran said, stepping forwards. “I understand your confusion Pidge. Magic and medicine are both precise sciences, and if we couldn’t find a medical solution, it makes no sense that we’ve suddenly found a magical one. But quintessence is something that evades all logic. It can cure as easily as it can kill. Luckily, it is rather easily manipulated. And Alteans are rather gifted at magic and quintessent manipulations. It’s the reason That Allura was able to heal Shay’s Balmera. The reason that my father was able to save the young king from a near fatal attempt on his life. 

“I’ve already tested the chemicals that Lance was hooked up to when he was recovered. Their sole focus was keeping him alive. If the only other thing he was exposed to was the quintessence, then it’s highly likely that we can fix him by simply removing the negative quintessent energies and replacing them with pure ones.” Coran met Pidge’s eyes. He was serious, speaking of the situation with the gravity it required, but his entire countenance had brightened. 

“So what would we need to do?” Pidge asked.

And so they embarked on a lengthy discussion about quintessence and Altean magic. Coran’s father had been a gifted magic user and had taught Coran the theory surrounding quintessence and magic. While there were many ways to manipulate quintessence, various forms of magic that various species had perfected over time, the type of magic they were looking for was a ‘hanv’a malga,’ a type of purification ceremony. 

“Essentially,it’s a purification ceremony. On the balmera, we gave over energy in exchange for crystals. This is similar, but first, we take energy, the dark quintessence, away.” Allura said.

“But where does the negative energy go?” Shiro asked. “It’s not like it just ceases to exist, does it?”

Allura shook her head. “It does not. Ideally, we could perform the hanv’a malga on a quintessence rich planet. Somewhere with a large ecological presence. Then, the energy is taken in by the planet. Consumed by it, essentially.”

“But isn’t this quintessence evil? Can we let it just diffuse? Is that safe?”

“It is safe to give the quintessence to a planet, whose quintessent presence is too large to be affected by the negative energy released during the process.”

“Then it’s just one drop in the bucket,” Hunk said, grinning as it clicked into place.

“How soon can we do this?” Shiro asked. Allura turned to the controls and pulled up a map.

“I can find somewhere safe for the process within the hour. We can arrive before Lance wakes up from this dose of Torival.”

“And then… Then we just perform the ceremony? And he’s okay?” Keith said. It was the first time he’d spoken since before the footage was shown.

“We do the ceremony, and then he’s safe,” Coran said with a nod. Keith’s eyes tightened. They all heard the difference. No one knew if Lance would be okay just because he wasn’t dangerous. Okay was unattainable. But safe? Safe they could do.

 

* * *

 

Allura dismissed the rest of the paladins while she set about finding a place safe enough for them to perform the hanv’a malga. There were less than two hours left before Lance would wake up, and they didn’t want to drug him again or wait longer than necessary to get the druid magic out of his system. Coran and Shiro were going through [more of the footage](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14619390) of Lance in the lab, just to make sure they were targeting the right thing. So long as they didn’t discover anything else in Lance’s system— something Coran’s tests said was highly unlikely— they would be safe to remove the druid magic.

In the meantime, Hunk, Keith, and Pidge had made their way to the common room. Pidge was rambling, which was strange for her, but Keith was grateful for it. He still didn’t know what to say to Hunk. They hadn’t spoken in the past few hours and Keith was nervous, to say the least. 

The trio settled onto the curved couch in the common room, Keith on one end and Pidge and Hunk on the other. But the entire time, Pidge kept up her stream of babble, mostly about quintessence theory and Coran’s history with Altean magic.

“I guess I should have known, or at least suspected. It only makes sense, what with Allura and the Balmera and even Coran. Hunk, didn’t you say he was able to give the Balmera energy when you guys went for that crystal? I should have tried to look into that at the time—”

Keith just listened mindlessly as she continued on. Mostly, he tried to figure out what he would say to Hunk when he finally found the nerve. Whenever he looked at the other boy, his gaze was on Pidge, or lingering just past her. Keith thought he saw Hunk’s eyes flick to him at one point, but just as quick as they were there, they were gone and Hunk remained quietly sullen. 

Eventually, if not inevitably, Pidge’s talk of quintessence and energy theory moved to the hanv’a malga and then Lance. Keith tried not to listen as she worried aloud, but everything Pidge said seemed to validate his own fears. What if the hanv’a malga didn’t work? What if it did but nothing changed? Maybe this volatile state was Lance’s behavior. The druid had hinted at changing his attitude, and had said they’d wanted to make him something fiercer than the Champion had been. What if the druid had succeeded? 

But the thing that scared Keith the most, and the thing that not even Pidge dared to voice, was possibly the worst thing Keith had thought (and immediately, if futilely, tried to forget): 

What if all their treatments— the time in the pod, the hanv’a malga, anything that came after— worked, only to reveal that they were too late and there was nothing left of Lance to save?

 

* * *

 

Lomaaz was a lush planet, green and bright with thick, if bizarre looking, plant life. After many scans, Allura had confirmed that Lomaaz was not only teeming with quintessence, but also perfectly safe: the planet was at a point in its developmental cycle where its atmosphere was fully formed and rich with oxygen, but not developed enough to have any signs of intelligent (or dangerous) life. It was also tucked into a smaller, remote galaxy, practically undisturbed. Allura landed the Castle of Lions in a field of purple grass, and the team disembarked. 

They wasted no time setting up for the ritual. Lance’s latest dose of Torival would wear off within the hour, and it would be better for him to start the ceremony before he woke up. The extra stimulus of moving out of the castle wouldn’t be good for Lance in his current state. Within moments of landing, Pidge and Hunk were following Coran outside to set up for the ritual. Keith took off in Red to do a perimeter check— “Just to make sure the castle sensors didn’t miss anything”— and Shiro and Allura were in the med bay with Lance.

Shiro stood by almost uselessly as Allura went about preparing Lance for the ceremony. She gently washed his face and hands with a warm cloth, as they were his only visible skin. Even after coming out of the pod he was still in the same healing suit, as it monitored his vitals for them. Shiro watched the charts carefully, looking for any sign that Lance would wake up early from the sedative.

Allura used her fingers and drew purple sigils on Lance’s skin, one on each cheekbone, and small ones on his palms.

“The markings will help him match to mine and Coran’s energies. They will make him more accessible to us,” she explained.

“And the paint?” Shiro asked, pulling off his uniform helmet as he stepped closer. Allura chuckled.

“Old makeup from my mother’s bedroom. She used to wear it over her eyes.” 

Shiro tried not to look shocked at the mention of the Queen. Allura hadn’t mentioned her outside of discussions of the blue lion. Shiro hadn’t even realized that the old queen had possessions still on the ship. Instead, he stepped closer to the princess.

“Do you miss her?” he asked carefully. If the question shocked Allura, she recovered quickly.

“All the time, but not in the same way that I miss my father. I was closer to him. My mother was a stern woman, and a wonderful leader for it. But my father was the warm one.” she fell quiet. Shiro looked at Lance’s charts; he was no closer to waking up. 

Shiro watched Allura swirl intricate designs over Lance’s hands. Her hands were steady, moving the rich paint effortlessly over Lance’s brown skin. 

“Although,” Allura said, breaking the silence. “things like this make me feel closer to them This ritual, these sigils, they connect me to Altea and all the history and culture Coran and I now carry. I suppose it makes me miss them more, but also feel connected to them.” Her eyes grew distant and her finger swiped away from Lance’s hand, finishing her work on his hands. 

Before Shiro could say anything, the comm in his helmet buzzed. He put it back on and heard Hunk hail them.

“The others are ready. We can bring him out,” Shiro said. Allura nodded and stood, silently getting to work.

 

* * *

 

Hunk fought not to pace as he waited for Shiro and Allura to bring Lance out. Keith had returned in Red just minutes ago confirming that the area was completely secure, and Coran was already meditating just outside of the circle of runes they had prepared. He wore a long flowing gown, layers of fabric falling over his shoulders into the grass and spilling over his legs where they crossed beneath him. He took slow, deep breaths and with each exhale the runes on the ground seemed to move, glowing and pulsating as they filled with energy.

Behind him, Hunk heard Pidge gasp. He turned back to look at the castle. Allura and Shiro had just emerged. Allura look other-worldly. She wore a gown identical to Coran’s, fabric billowing with every step. Something in her stride made her look more powerful than usual, more regal. Shiro wore his uniform, and between them, Lance floated out on a stretcher. He was sleeping, the restraints around his wrists and feet almost irrelevant as he dozed, still and quiet. 

They were all silent as Allura approached the circle, maneuvering Lance’s stretcher so that he lay across the center, his head towards Coran and his feet towards her. She sat, throwing fabric out behind her and began to breathe just as Coran did. 

Hunk and the others stepped back, standing in a line and watching silently as the ritual began. They had been told what to expect— lots of glowing, maybe some movement from the planet itself— and told that so long as they remained still and quiet everything should go perfectly. 

Allura and Coran’s breathing synced together and all of the runes began to glow. Coran opened his eyes, looking across the circle at Allura who met his gaze. They both began to hum, a long low note that, though it only came from the two of them, seemed to shake the world around them. It rang through the air and shook the ground. The marks on their cheekbones began to glow and, moments later, so did the ones painted on Lance. 

Suddenly, the whole of Lomaaz moved with energy. The purple grass blew in an unseen wind, licking at the stretcher where Lance slept. The swirls on his hands glowed and the trees around the clearing seemed to bend towards him. Lance’s body drew tight, back arching and mouth falling open as the air whipped and swirled around him. 

Then everything fell still. The glow dissipated and Lance slowly relaxed, falling against the stretcher with an exhale. His eyelids twitched and they opened. He blinked, confusion clear on his face for just a moment before fatigue overtook him. His eyes slid closed and his breathing evened out. 

Allura looked over at the others where they waited, all of them fidgeting and twitching. She looked back at Coran, who nodded, a grin forming beneath his mustache.

The walk back to the castle was quiet, but it was the lightest any of them had felt in weeks. 

 

 

* * *

 

Back on the ship, Coran bustled Lance off to the med bay. Hunk helped Allura set Lance up on the bed, moving him off of the levitating stretcher and onto the soft pillows. On the far side of the room, Pidge helped Coran prepare a series of blood tests. In minutes, They were taking blood samples from the veins of Lance’s still painted hands. Coran took the blood and began to test samples while Pidge pressed cotton against the pricks from the needles, partly out of necessity, partly out of a need for closeness to Lance. But eventually there was nothing more to be done, and she crossed the room to join the others. Coran moved from microscope to microscope and vial to vial for minutes that felt like hours. Behind him, the others watched, biting nails and bouncing idly as nerves churned in their stomachs. All eyes were on Lance, who, though he already seemed to have improved, still filled them with apprehension.

Finally, Coran turned around, facing the others on their end of the room. He was grinning.

“Lance’s blood seems clear of druidic energies. Further testing will show if his hormones have regulated out, but those will take time. As is, Lance is safe and healthy.”

Everyone was beaming and, had Lance not been sleeping, likely would have cheered. Hunk scooped Pidge up in a hug even as she squeezed one of Keith’s hands, Allura slumped against Shiro and he wound an arm around her shoulders. Coran gave them all a minute to celebrate before clearing his throat to call for their attention. 

“Now that Lance is back to normal, we need to deal with his human needs. He’ll sleep for a few hours, what with the residual Torival in his bloodstream. We have lots to do before he wakes up.”

They split up around the castle. Hunk went to the kitchen to start preparing gentle foods for when Lance woke up. Allura went to the bridge and set about doing more thorough scans of Lomaaz. It seemed like they could remain on the planet for a few days while Lance started his recovery. They might even be able to forage fruits from the planet’s bounty of plant life. [Pidge and Keith went to clean Lance’s room.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11484177) It had gone undisturbed since he went missing and they needed to dust and air the room out. 

Shiro stayed with Coran in the med bay. He and Coran would deal with Lance. He needed to be put on IV fluids, if only for a few hours. He also needed to be bathed. Though neither man said it, they knew that it was unlikely that Lance would allow himself to be touched or helped after waking, and it simply wasn’t healthy for him to stay in the same filthy healing suit. Shiro also knew that Coran had kept him in the med bay, opposed to Pidge or Allura, because of Lance’s scars. Shiro and Coran had seen the remaining footage from the labs. They had rushed through it, but, a few times throughout, Lance had been naked while the druid poked and prodded at him, his malnourished body on display as the druid laughed at his pain and the marks that weeks of torture had left behind. For Lance’s sake, they wanted as few people as possible privy to the ridges of scar tissue that littered his body. Scars of this nature were never just physical.

So Shiro worked quietly alongside Coran. They peeled the healing suit, the inside of which was grimy with dried sweat,down from Lance’s torso and gently began to wash him, rubbing warm, soapy cloths over his arms and shoulders. Shiro took Lance’s weight against his chest as Coran washed his back and he tried to ignore the way the older man’s eyes tightened.

“Is it bad back there too?” Shiro asked quietly. Coran just nodded silently, neither of them needing to specify what ‘it’ was. They lapsed back into silence, leaning Lance against Coran while Shiro wiped dead skin and dried sweat off of his chest and stomach. They laid Lance back against the clean sheets and Shiro continued to gently clean him, moving the warm cloths as though on autopilot, working steadily lower until he reached the claw marks on his hips. He stopped, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He didn’t want to think about what those marks could mean.

Shiro looked away as Coran pulled the healing suit down Lance’s legs, leaving him naked. Shiro moved to Lance’s leg, swallowing as he washed over the three long claw marks scoring down his right thigh. They had healed very well, the lines thin and tight, nowhere near the angry, red gashes that they’d been when he’d arrived. Shiro turned away as Coran moved to clean Lance’s crotch, letting the older man handle it. 

Shiro set about picking up the dirty cloths and dropping them down the laundry chute. When he turned back to the bed, Coran had slid a pair of boxers up Lance’s legs and was pulling a loose-fitting gown up his arms. The gown hung off of his shoulders, somehow making Lance’s already thin form look even smaller. Once he was covered, Coran laid him beneath the covers and tucked him in, tugging the clean white blankets up to his chin. 

It would be hours later, when there was nothing else to be done on the ship, none of them could bear to be too far from their friend, and they all found themselves cuddled together in the med bay, waiting, that Lance would kick the blankets off of him, waking with a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visit me on [tumblr](https://profoundprincessface.tumblr.com/)! Leave commetns and Kudos! I love talking to y'all!
> 
> *
> 
> Outtake for next week!
> 
> Do you want to see:
> 
> Shiro and Coran making their way through the other footage from the lab
> 
> or
> 
> Keith and Pidge cleaning Lance's bedroom.
> 
> Update: you lucky ducks you got both! 
> 
> Coran and Shiro's Outtake [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14619390) !
> 
> Keith and Pidge's Outtake [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11484177) !


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Shows up four months late with Starbucks, 5k+ words, and #ZeroPlot~
> 
> I Live Bitches.
> 
> But seriously, I missed you guys and now it's Nanowrimo and I'm back in school and reverting to my favorite #CopingMechanism so you'll be getting updates again! Not consistently, but they do exist. I still have a lot of ground I wanna cover and a lot of things I'm excited about in this story and it's Mine and never going to Stop being Mine no matter what.
> 
> Anyways, no major or new trigger/content warnings for this chapter, but if anyone needs me to add a tag for them please let me know!
> 
> [also i hate to be a needy binch but this project is v hard to write sometimes so any and all comments are greatly appreciated because i love talking to you guys and y'all keep me going]
> 
> Here's to returning form the Dead!!
> 
> xoxo  
> ~Tay
> 
> (also wtf, why are there 12k+ of you How??? I'm so honored???)

The room was foreign: not unexpected. But it was occupied: unexpected. The unsettlingly familiar feeling of eyes on him crept down his spine like cold water. He held himself still and took stock of what he knew.

Location: undetermined, but definitely medical. There were restraints on his wrists, and a strap going over his waist, but these seemed there  only to keep him in place. He could sit up and his legs were free. He wasn’t being operated on. There was an IV in one of his arms. It itched, but that was nothing. He wasn’t in pain, which was as much a worry as it was a relief. He must have gotten out of a pod recently. That meant that they wanted him whole for something— what, he was not sure, but it likely would not be good.

He couldn’t identify the people in the room. That was normal. He’d seen so many generals and officials from different planets that he was used to strangers ogling him. And these strangers were certainly ogling; their eyes followed him. He could feel their gazes. They watched him measure his surroundings. They were measuring him up, taking stock of him. Just like he was them.

He resisted the urge to look at them. Some species took eye contact as a challenge. That was a lesson he’d only needed to learn once, and had only survived because Tarnec had intervened. He looked forwards: clean sheets, empty stasis pods. He was the only subject— patient? Victim? He couldn’t yet understand his reason for being there— in the room. This made him nervous. This meant that he was the only thing for them to focus on. Anything they gave, he would get all of. He could feel his heart rate picking up. He took a shuddering breath. It wouldn’t do to lose his wits. Remaining calm was remaining safe. 

One of them took a step towards him. He didn’t react, holding perfectly still as they approached.

“Lance?” Stay calm. Stay still. Stay safe. He didn’t react and the one who had approached him— definitely a leader; someone upper tier— didn’t reach for him. That meant he wasn’t allowed to touch. That meant they were being watched. The only question was by whom. “Lance, do you know where you are?” 

He didn’t respond. It was important that he behaved. 

“Can you speak?”

He let his eyes flick around the room. There was a galra in the room— not Tarnec, and too young to be grand council. His eyes burned into him. The galra was the one who was watching, the reason that this leader— a general, an ambassador, a mysterious threat— couldn’t touch him. He locked eyes with this one and they jolted, sucking in air through their nose.

“Lance?” the leader said. He turned to look back, following his eyes and then also sucked in a breath. His eyes came quickly back to him.

He ignored the leader, fixing his gaze on the young galra.“Khitage xa Tarnec,” he said, his voice forming around the phrase with ease, having screamed it on enough occasions. The young galra went pale, purple pulling away from his skin while his ears twitched nervously. 

“Lance, it’s okay,” the older one said. “You’re safe.” The leader reached towards him with his flesh hand. He flinched— wrong. Bad. Calm is safe— and couldn’t stop himself from pulling against his bonds. Everything was suddenly rushing. He was sweating and he was freezing and there was heat racing through his veins. It pounded inside his chest, building pressure inside of his lungs.

“Khitage xa— Tarnec?Tarnec!” He pulled against the restraints, leaning as far away from this man as he could. He knew he should be quiet, that he should take whatever was about to happen without issue and hope for the best, but his mouth seemed to work against him, spilling pleas with abandon. He felt tears prick in his eyes and his throat tightened sporadically. One of the others in the room moved towards him. God, he should’ve just stayed still and quiet, let them beat him, cut him, spit on him— anything to stop whatever punishment he’d certainly won himself. 

Helpless, he wailed, letting terror overwhelm him and yielding to the dark.

  
  


* * *

 

“Khitage xa Tarnec! Tarnec! Xour Grasta kin gavë, xour gril— ”

Lance’s blue eyes fell on him, wide, pleading, panicked, and all Keith wanted to do was rush over and protect him from whatever danger it was that Lance saw in the room. Had it not been for Pidge’s hand tightening on his wrist, he likely would have. Instead, he stood with the others, stock still as tension rolled thickly through the room.

Allura took a step toward Lance and he flinched, his jumbled cries getting louder. Most of what he said Keith recognized as Galra, the guttural language spilling easily from Lance’s lips, but bits and pieces of his speech were unrecognizable, at times sibilant and wet, at others lilting. There were moments that could have been English or Spanish, but they were unintelligible between the mess of other languages and illegible cries. 

Keith fought to keep still as Allura approached, stepping between Lance and Shiro and raising her hands to show that she meant no harm. Lance’s eyes followed her, but he kept talking, tripping over foreign words as he pleaded with them.

“Lance, please,” Allura said gently. “We mean you no harm, and I promise we will not hurt you, but we need you to calm down and breathe.” There was a brief moment, as Lance looked at Allura, blue eyes wide and wary, and seemed almost confused by her— by the smooth and gentle cadence of her voice and her calm demeanor. And there was a moment, a flickering moment when it looked like she might have gotten through to him, but then—

“Rhushta con vrutë,” he whispered, heels pedaling against the bed as he tried in vain to increase the distance between himself and her. “Rh-rhushta— khitage xa—“ He turned and met Keith’s eyes, tears pooling in his waterline. “Kin gavë…” he trailed off, his voice fading into a pitiful whimper as tears began to glide down his sallow cheeks. 

“Lance?” Allura probed gently. “I’m going to undo your restraints now.” If Lance heard her, he didn’t show it. His eyes stayed fixed on Keith as Allura spoke. She moved towards him with deliberate slowness, allowing him time to register her movements. He neither responded, nor calmed. His breathing stayed panicked and his eyes flicked between Keith and Allura as if trying to decide who to trust. Finally, Keith looked away, fixing his gaze staunchly on Shiro.

Allura walked slowly alongside the bed, reaching for one of Lance’s wrists. He made a terrified sound then cut himself off, biting his lip harshly in an effort to stay quiet. He clenched his eyes shut and trembled, even as he tried to stay still. Allura moved quickly, flicking the latches open and retracting the straps back into the bed. Even with the restraints gone, Lance didn’t move. He stayed upright, his entire body quivering with tension. 

The rest of the team looked helplessly around the room. Allura didn’t know what to do next. Lance had yet to open his eyes and touching him would only make his panic worse.

“Lance?” He flinched. Allura resisted the urge to sigh. She watched him carefully as she spoke. “Lance, now that you’re awake, we need to run a few more tests.” On the last word his breath caught and he opened his eyes to look, terrified, at Allura. 

A sob seemed to claw it’s way out of Lance’s throat and he shook violently as others wracked his body. He scrambled backwards up the bed and away from Allura, finally making use of being unrestrained. The others stood, helpless, on the sidelines as he hugged his arms to his heaving chest. He scratched at his exposed wrists and neck, crying and begging all the while. Allura took a step back, hoping that the space would help Lance calm down, but within a minute the steady rhythm of Lance’s crying had fallen out of sync, his breathing speeding up and his sobs changing back into muttered words. Even with his enhanced hearing, Keith could barely make out the broken jumble pouring from Lance’s lip. But, even without understanding what he was saying, one thing was terribly legible: Lance was begging, pleading with them. That much was clear in any language.

Lance flinched, as Allura spoke again. “None of us are going to hurt you, Lance, so please, allow us to help you.”

Lance said nothing. He continued to cry, his eyes flitting between her and Keith, who found himself entangled with Pidge, unsure if she was holding him back or using him to shield herself from the sight of Lance or whatever—whoever— this version of him was. Keith’s ears drooped as he looked at Lance. His fear was palpable. It literally coated the air, the scent of him— the musk of anxious sweat and the lingering scent of others on his skin, even after kryo and being bathed—seemed to singe Keith’s nose with every inhale, of which there were many as they waited for the heart-wrenching standoff between Lance and Allura to end. 

They passed nearly an hour like this. Lance crying and panicking, and Allura trying and failing to get him to respond to her. Finally, Lance curled into a ball at the very top of the bed. He pressed his back against the wall and hugged his knees to his chest and whispered into them. After a while, the others realized that he was completely unresponsive, trapped within his mind despite the crowd in the room. Whether or not he even heard Allura’s gentle coaxing was anybody’s guess. 

The rest of team Voltron pressed themselves against the wall, giving Lance space, as he cried himself out. His body slowly succumbed to exhaustion, his arms loosening around his legs and his head drooping towards his chest. Nevertheless, his eyebrows stayed pinched together and his body tense. Even in sleep, he was scared.

Nobody moved or spoke, afraid of waking him and having to start all over again with the tears and begging. Instead, Allura turned around and ushered them all silently out of the room, waving them towards the door. Even Coran, after a brief moment fiddling with the med bay’s alert system, followed them out and down the hall from the med bay to one of the many unused rooms in the castle, a cross between a sitting area and an office that had Altean reference books lining the walls and plush yet dusty chairs nestled in its corners.

Coran was the last into the room, pulling the door closed behind him. Allura motioned them all into chairs and they dispersed, Pidge, Shiro, and Hunk taking seats while Keith simply leaned against the desk, crossing his arms and gripping his biceps nervously. 

“Should we really be leaving him alone right now?” Keith asked, trying and failing to keep the nervous tension out of his voice. He felt like he could vibrate out of his skin. He could feel his claws piercing through his jacket sleeves but he couldn’t bring himself to care. If he let go now he would shake apart or run to Lance or some terrifying combination of the two.

“We should allow Lance what sleep he can get.  He was very distressed, and his body is still recovering. We’ll leave him to sleep.”

“But what if he wakes up?” 

“I’ve set the motion sensors in the med bay to alert us should he wake up or move away from the bed,” Coran said. “It’s likely that he will sleep for a while, as his body is still responding to the magic of the hanv’a malga. Even if he did wake, it is improbable that, given his current mindset, he would attempt to leave the med bay. I’m not even sure if he has the strength for it right now.”

“What do you mean by current mindset?” Shiro asked, leaning forwards in his chair.

“Lance has spent the past month and a half…,” Allura trailed off, her brow furrowing. She looked to Coran, who, though he appeared equally troubled, nodded. “Do you all remember the high security prison we broke into? The one where Keith was injured by the druid?” Everyone nodded, even as the tension in the room doubled. “Well, those prisoners were being kept for later usage as gladiators for the ring—” Shiro failed to hide a flinch— “or as trophies. Prizes to be kept by Galra officials.”

“Allura,” Shiro said quietly. “Do you think that they… do you think they put Lance in the ring?” She shook her head.

“I doubt it, though, judging from the experiments the druid performed on him,” —another flinch, this time from Hunk, who was unprepared for the princess’s candor— “it seems they were preparing him for combat, either in the ring or… or other entertainment circles. No, I believe, and this is only a guess, considering we aren’t sure at what point Lance was transferred from General Haskoh to Zarkon, that Lance was kept as a trophy. That he was treated as a prize and forced to serve Zarkon and others.” Allura looked around the room. 

“When.. when you say ‘forced to serve…” Pidge rasped. Shiro looked at her, noticing how pale she’d gone. His mind flashed to the footage he and Coran had seen. To the way that the druid had spoken to the galra Tarnec through the camera. To the scars on Lance’s hips and the gashes down his thighs. He shuddered, closing his eyes against the wave of fear that washed over him. Allura’s voice came soft and wary across the room.

“We cannot be entirely sure of what this entailed, but he would have been entirely at the mercy of his handlers. His... submission— however it may have to manifest— would have been expected in all situations. His handler or… or his owner would have been completely in charge of making all of his choices.”

Keith flinched, ears shifting to lie flat against his head. “So, would General Haskoh have been Lance’s owner?” Keith said the last work carefully, as if breaking it would cause all its implications to fall freely to the ground.

“I don't believe so,” Allura stated. “Had Haskoh held any formal ownership over Lance, he likely would not have been takenaway  from him. That sort of claim would have been recognized officially.”

“What if Lance wasn’t  _ taken  _ from Haskoh?” Pidge said. “What if they gave him over? It would make sense: a low ranking general presenting a paladin to the emperor?”

“Pidge, even if that’s true, it doesn't help us with Lance.” Hunk said.

“You don’t know that,” she said.

“Yes. I do. I don’t care why Haskoh gave Lance to Zarkon. The fact is that he did, and we have to deal with that from there.”

“But we have the footage from when Haskoh was in charge of Lance--”

“We aren’t going to be looking at any more footage.” Shiro said firmly. 

“But Shiro—”

“No, Pidge. It’s invasive.”

“It’s  _ helpful. _ The footage I stole from the druid’s lab is the only reason that we were able to save Lance from the Karsa. It’s the only thing that let Coran know what to do.”

“But this isn’t something we can find a cure for. Trauma doesn't work like that.”

“But understanding what caused it—”

“That’s not how this works, Pidge” Shiro snapped.

“But what if it could be—”

“Enough, Katie!”  he shouted, slicing a hand down through the air. Pidge’s eyes went wide and she looked up him, shocked. Shiro took a deep breath before speaking again. “It isn’t fair of us to watch that footage, not when Lance is entirely unable to consent to us knowing what he went through. What we watched before was out of necessity. Until there is a finite reason to, we will not be watching any of the footage from Haskoh’s ship. Haskoh is dead, and there’s nothing that’s going to change what’s happened to Lance. We need to be focusing on Lance.”

“Shiro is right.” Coran said, stepping into the center of the room. “Lance has to be our main focus, and arguing about the surveillance video is not helpful to him.”

“It’s funny,” Pidge said dryly, “that the two people telling the rest of us not to worry about the footage we have are the two who’ve seen the most of it.”

“That’s out of line, Pidge.” Shiro said.

“Is it? It’s like you’ve all stopped worrying. What happened isn’t just going to leave because Lance is awake. We just saw that. And I don’t like not knowing what we’re dealing with.”

“Neither do I Pidge, but that doesn’t mean we can just invade his privacy—”

“But where’s the line between that and trying to protect us? Shiro, Lance nearly  _ killed _ you when he came out of the pod. Without the footage, we wouldn’t have known how to bring him back from the Karsa. What if there are other things just lurking? Things that we aren’t going to know about until it’s too late? I—” Pidge looked down, clenching her hands at her side. “I don’t want to think about Lance as a danger, but I’m scared. For him. For us. I don’t like not knowing. It feels like we’re choosing ignorance, when we could be helping him.”

Before Shiro could speak, an alert went off. All eyes went wide and heads swivelled towards Coran, who leapt away from the wall he’d been leaning on.

“Coran?” Shiro said, concern clear in his voice as he moved towards the door. 

“Hold, Number 2. Let’s not do anything too quickly—”

“But if that means Lance is awake—”

“Then he already knows that he woke up in a room alone.” Coran began to type on a console on his arm as he spoke. “We don’t want to barge in and unsettle him— we saw how uneasy he was the last time we were all there.” Coran pulled a holoscreen into the air and footage of the med bay began to play. Everyone stepped closer.

Lance was still on the bed and his eyes were closed, but he was thrashing in his sleep.

“Coran, is he—”

“It’s likely that the alert simply picked up on Lance’s movement, even though he is still sleeping.”

“Why are we just watching?” Keith asked, ears flicking restlessly. “Shouldn’t we go to him? So he doesn’t wake up alone?”

“My initial answer is no,” Coran said. “Given how distressed Lance was upon waking and how poorly he reacted to the others in the room—”

“But that was all of us in a room. What if it’s just you, or Shiro or—”

“I understand your concern, Keith, but I do believe it is best that Lance wake from whatever nightmare he is having and not find himself confronted with one of us.”

“So we’re just going to stand here and watch?” 

“Yes, unless you find yourself unable to do so, in which case you are welcome to take yourself to your quarters.” Coran’s tone was critical. “Unless Lance makes to harm himself in some way, we will not intervene.”

And so they watched for long minutes as Lance sweat and muttered and thrashed in the grasp of whatever nightmare had trapped him. Finally, pitifully, he rolled onto his side and curled into a ball, tucking his head by his knees and holding it there with a hand placed protectively over the back of his head and neck. His breathing, though ragged, eventually slowed. 

Coran closed the holoscreen. 

“Very good. Lance will continue to rest. We will let him wake on his own and set about making sure he eats and stays hydrated.” Coran looked around the room and the others nodded. “In terms of monitoring and looking after Lance while he recovers, we must decide who should be looking after him and in what capacities. When Lance last awoke it was made rather… apparent that he is not yet ready to interact with us, definitely not with all of us together, and only possibly with individual team members.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?” Hunk snapped. “We can’t just leave him in there by himself, that’s just as scary.”

“Hunk’s probably right,” Pidge said, stepping forward. “Considering that we found Lance in a Galra laboratory, he probably won’t react well to waking up alone surrounded by medical equipment.”

“But Lance isn’t yet strong enough to come off of his IV’s,” Allura said quietly ”He’s still severely malnourished and rather dehydrated, and those are things that the healing pods can’t fix. He needs to be in the med bay, in a bed, recovering.”

Keith and Hunk opened their mouths at the same time as if to protest, but Coran cut them off.

“Lance’s current need for rest is too great to consider either moving or disturbing him. Allura and myself will continue to maintain the med bay, seeing to Lance’s medical needs, but we will not lord over him like retainers. The poor boy has certainly had enough of that over the last few weeks.”

“But what happens if he wakes up?” Pidge asked.

“Then an alert will go off just like it did today and either Allura or myself will attend to him; though I’m hoping that Lance will sleep for quite a while— his body certainly needs it.” 

“I’m sure that this is upsetting to you all,” Allura said seriously, “but it is for the best. Coran is highly trained as a medic and, though I’m less experienced than he, I’m capable in the med bay and will likely have some luck communicating with Lance.” She looked around at the team, none of whom seemed to be looking at her. The younger three slid glances between one another and Shiro stood with his eyes closed and eyebrows pinched together. He exhaled through his nose and slowly opened his eyes, meeting Allura’s. She sent him a pleading glance and, though the corners of his mouth turned down, he spoke up.

“Allura and Coran are right. We’re obviously too much for Lance to handle right now, especially considering how weak his body still is, and he should stay in the med bay for a while longer where he’s sure to rest and recover. He shouldn’t be dealing with the stress of acclimating to life at home when he should be healing. Coran and Allura will keep us updated as to his condition.” He said this last bit with a pointed glance to Allura who returned his gaze honestly, eyes serious, even as her shoulders relaxed.

“Of course, Shiro,” Coran said, stepping forward once again. “Now, Lance isn’t the only one who needs food and rest. I want you all to head upstairs. Eat, rest, maybe even spend some time in the training room or with your lions. Just take care of one another.” He waved his hands, shooing them in a terribly maternal manner. “Off with the lot of you.”

The paladins started to file out of the room, trudging reluctantly towards the lift. It took them all upstairs to the common room, where, as if on autopilot, they all took their usual places.

For five minutes no one spoke, or moved, or even looked at each other. Instead, the scene in the med bay played in their minds, the sight and sound of Lance— terrified, shaking with distress— repeated itself in their brains. 

 

* * *

 

The following week passed slowly. Shiro set the team back on their regular training schedule to try and pull attention away from the situation downstairs in the med bay. On one level, this worked: the time spent training definitely proved distracting. But on the other hand: it revealed just how high tensions on the team were running. 

The first day on the training deck they took it easy. They hadn’t had a formal training session since before the mission to rescue Lance, so Shiro thought it best to start slow. That day they did workouts running, strength training, the basics, and slowly intensified workouts from there. On the fourth morning, Shiro wanted to start at level one and go as far as they could without straining too much, before attempting a mind meld. 

They never made it to the mind meld.

Team fights had always felt unbalanced with only four people, but usually they could manage, muddle through by playing off of one another’s strengths. It was what had made so many of their rescue missions so successful. 

Today, there was none of that. 

“End training sequence!” Pidge shouted, letting her shield shimmer away. She stowed her bayard and turned to leave the room. Keith and Hunk looked silently on as Shiro leveled her with a glare.

“Pidge,” he said, voice stern. “You can’t just call an end to a session, we were just getting started.”

Pidge turned to look at him, eyes hard with bottled emotion. “Maybe you’re just getting started Shiro, but the rest of us are exhausted and I’m going to my lab.”

“Pidge,” He said, voice stretching the one syllable into a threat.

“Don’t give me that. You’re not my dad, Shiro.” She rolled her eyes.

“No, but I am in charge of this team—”

“Well maybe I don’t want you to be!”

“Pidge, you’re being selfish. This isn’t about what we need, it’s about Voltron. About keeping people safe—”

“Well maybe I want one moment that can be about me! About my family and my friends and not the fucking mission!” Pidge threw her helmet to the ground by Shiro’s feet before turning on her heel and storming out. Shiro started after her but was stopped by a hand on his chest. He looked down at the broad hand and then over at Hunk, who wordlessly shook his head. Shiro bristled, but turned away.

“Hit the showers.”

 

* * *

 

Allura sat quietly in the med bay, watching data slowly flicker onto a holoscreen. She sighed, furrowing her brow. Although Lance’s vitals had, for the most part, stabilized since his time in the pod, they now had to try and anticipate the effects that his captivity and subsequent torture could have had on his mind. The pod hadn’t shown any physical damage to his brain, but that didn’t mean that Lance, at least Lance as they knew him, would emerge unscathed.

Across the room, Lance groaned in his sleep. She turned to look at him as his brow furrowed and his eyes clenched tightly shut. He bit his lip, as though trying to quiet himself, even as whimpers escaped him. Allura took a shaky breath. She was overwhelmed by the urge to approach him, to stroke his hair and shush him gently and offer what little comfort she could, but she did not. She stayed put in the corner of the med bay. 

In her head, Allura heard the Blue lion keen mournfully, an other-worldly sound forcing its way to the forefront of her mind. She pressed her palms over her ears, trying in vain to quiet the noise, even as it compelled her to reach out for Lance. To conjure energy to the tips of her fingers and press it into him. Just one touch, one simple, comforting touch, anything if it would—

A hand closed around her wrist, stopping her. She looked down. She was practically hovering over Lance’s sleeping form and already she could feel her magic pooling in her chest. She recoiled with a gasp and, be it not for Coran’s grip on her, likely would have fallen.

“What in X’hal’s name were you doing, Princess?” he hissed, backing both of them into the corner and away from Lance’s bed.

Allura blinked, confused. “I- I don’t know. One moment I was watching Lance and the next the Blue lion was… she was in my mind. She was the only thing I could hear.”

Coran looked at her quizzically. “What was the lion saying?”

“She didn’t really  _ say _ anything. It was like… It was a feeling. A compulsion.” Allura looked to the bed and Lance, chest rising slowly up and down with the slow breathing of sleep. “She misses him. She mourns for him still, even though he is here.”

Coran’s brow furrowed and he frowned. “Why the magic?”

“I’m not sure. She called it out of me. It was almost like… Almost like she herself wanted—”

One of Lance’s monitors beeped, shaking them both from the moment. Coran looked over and saw that Lance had gone through yet another bag of fluids. His frown deepened even as he set about grabbing another bag of solution. Lance was taking in fluids but had yet to, shall we say,  _ release  _ any of them. That meant that his body was either still recovering from his severe hydration and using all the water it could get, or his body was storing it, potentially as a survival instinct. Only time would tell which was the case. Coran moved quietly to the bed and set the new bag down on the covers beside Lance.

“Coran, let me help—”

“No, Princess,” he said dismissively, waving her off. “I can handle—”

“Coran, please,” she said, setting her jaw.  He fixed her with a gaze, measuring her with his eyes. “I can’t have you doubting me. Not now, of all times.” 

Coran looked between Lance, ashen faced and sallow, to Allura, who practically quivered with nervous energy. He nodded once, and Allura hurried quietly to his side. She held the empty bag and detached it from Lance’s IV while Coran hung the new one and grabbed for the attachments, linking the new bag of solution with the access port. Allura swooped in with gauze, sopping up the few drips that escaped during the transfer. 

She straightened up and looked over at Coran, watching his face as he watched Lance sleep. She looked back at the bed, watching Lance’s drawn face, and felt the Blue Lion stir in the back of her mind.

 

* * *

 

The night of the fifth day, Keith went down to the med bay. He had taken to doing so every evening, after dinner and training and showers, when they all separated for the night. On the third day, he started to come in the morning, before training, even before breakfast, just to see how the night had gone. Allura and Coran were giving the team updates twice a day, at breakfast and at dinner, but it was at the very end of the castle cycle, after they and Lance had made it through the day and the Altean pair had to brace themselves for yet another night with their charge, that Keith could look Coran or Allura in the eye and make them tell him the truth. 

“How is he?” Keith said, talking even before Allura had exited the door.

She sighed, looking up at him wearily. “He’s the same as always, Keith. Sleeping.”

“He’s been asleep for five days. Hasn’t he woken up at all?”

“If he had, we would have told you.  You all get the same alerts we do—” which was correct. The rest of the team got the alerts whenever Lance had a nightmare or a panic attack that set him thrashing. They would cluster in the hall by the med bay and wait, either for the attack to end or for him to wake up; but none of the episodes would stir him from his bizarrely deep slumber. “He tires himself out with night terrors. He panics without waking. He’s exhausted.” Allura said cooly.

“But he isn’t eating. Doesn’t he need—”

“As I’ve explained before,” Allura said with a pointed glance. Keith had the good sense to look abashed, his ears pulling back in an almost submissive gesture. 

“I know, I know. The IV solutions and whatever—”

“He’s getting all the nutrients he needs. We’ve seen his bloodwork and are tailoring his supplements for nutrients where he is especially deficient. It’s up to Lance to wake up. Even if his body is, or should be, ready, we cannot force his mind. That was made obvious for us days ago.”

“But you’re worried too. This isn’t normal.”

“No one knows what normal should be in this situation. Lance’s human body is responding to the influences of two vastly different magics. Even an Altean in good health would need time to recover from this. Its unreasonable to expect Lance to recover as quickly.”

“But he woke up that first night—”

“A Kickback. A delayed adrenaline response—”

“After the stress of the hanv’a malga. I know.”

“Then why do you keep questioning this?” Allura said, letting some of her own tired frustration creep into her voice. “Keith, you’re driving yourself mad with worry and bringing that madness to us.”

“I can’t help it! You won’t let us sit with him, or even see him up close. You’re so afraid of any type of stimulus near him that it’s no wonder—”

“Keith, are you sleeping?” Allura said, voice suddenly gentle.

Keith startled. “What? Allura, I’m fine, I’m just worried—”

“And are you talking to the others about this?” He said nothing, and Allura’s brow furrowed. “Keith?”

“None of us are really talking right now, okay? Just drop it. I just… I just want to check on him.” Keith’s voice turned coarse, his throat tightening in a way both he and Allura chose to ignore. “Can… can I see him?”

Allura sighed, used to the request. “Same way as usual. You don’t go past the first pod.” Keith simply nodded, hands moving restlessly at his sides. Allura opened the med bay door and let Keith walk past her into the space. Coran looked up from his work, his eyes moved quickly over Allura and Keith before he looked back down at the blood sample he was working with. Keith walked to where Allura said, stopping a distance from Lance’s bed. Keith took a deep breath and immediately regretted it, flinching against the stress hormones he could smell in the room.

“You’re worried too,” Keith said, “Both of you. You don’t want us to know, but you’re worried.” He looked beside him at Allura. 

She nodded silently. “Even Coran is starting to worry he’s been asleep too long,” she whispered. Had it not been for Keith advanced hearing, he doubts he would have heard her. “We’re using Altean drugs and Altean magic on the body of a human. It’s our only option, but it’s still far less than ideal. Because of this, we don’t know what his recovery is supposed to look like. How do we know if this is right?”

“Do you think there’s something else we’re missing?” 

“Almost certainly, but how are we to discover what it is? We have no idea how much of his time he spent interacting with that druid, no idea what other magicks they may have worked on him, and no idea what those effects may have been.”

“But we saved him. We got the dark quintessence out of his system—”

“But what if that wasn’t the only thing in there?” 

Keith and Allura stood in silence and watched Coran move about the room, switching between tests and monitors. After a moment, Allura sighed and walked further into the room, returning to work. Keith to a seat on the floor, settling with his back against the pod and letting the beeping of the monitors in the room— as shrill as they were with his sensitive hearing—an eerie comfort. They told him that Lance was alive. His heart was beating. His lungs were moving air.

Before too long, Keith had fallen asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I love y'all dearly and I'm sorry for disappearing. 
> 
> Tell me what you think! Y'all are like 80% or more of my inspiration!
> 
> Happy Guy Fawkes Day!  
> ~Tay


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Happy Holidays Lovelies!*
> 
> Important warning for this chapter at the end of this note, so at least skip down to the IMPORTANT and check in before reading.
> 
> I LIVE!! School tried to kill me & (tbh) did a pretty good job but I'm back with another too long chapter that takes a convoluted and unnecessary route to only one (1) plot point!! 
> 
> At least I'm staying on brand.
> 
> I'm still answering all of my comments, even if it takes a while! Please keep commenting, they make my da and keep me writing. 
> 
> Here's the IMPORTANT part:  
> This chapter includes enuresis or 'bed wetting.' Unfortunately this has situational relevance to the writing of Lance's recovery and, if anyone's really looking for it, you could probably find out why, but it will be explained in a later chapter. I don't spend much time on the urination itself, but there is a scene dedicated to cleaning up afterwards. I promise there's not going to be an arc about incontinence, but it's relevant. The clean-up scene will be marked with asterisks at the start and end. There's no dialogue during the cleanup itself, so it's pretty much skip-able. I tried to repeat any points from that scene in other moments for anyone looking to skip it (additional apologies to others for redundancy.)
> 
> As always, Please let me know if there are any trigger/content warnings I need to add! We're here for angst, but not at the expense of our own well-being.
> 
> Happy Reading, and a happier holiday!
> 
> xoxo (but the x's are snowflakes),  
> ~Tay
> 
> (ps - Happy Kwanzaa to anyone else celebrating!!)

Pidge heard the doors to her lab slide open and frowned. For safety reasons, the castle didn’t allow standard locks on the laboratory doors, but that didn’t mean people could just walk in without asking. She saved her work with the flick of a hand and whipped off her headphones.

“For the last time, Keith. I’m not coming up for din—“She whirled around and stopped short, looking up at Hunk, standing almost timidly in the doorway.

“Why would you think I was Keith?” He said, eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

“Better question: what are you doing here?” Pidge asked, crossing her arms. She wasn’t mad at Hunk per se, but she wasn’t _not_ mad at him either. It was complicated. She’d been avoiding just about everyone since her argument with Shiro on the training deck. She still went to training, but they hadn’t been able to do a team exercise in days without it ending in disaster. Over three days, it seemed that everyone had either stormed out or just blatantly gone rogue, ignoring orders and the others in favor of finishing the exercise as quickly as possible.

It didn’t necessarily work, but neither had talking. Dinner was an all but silent affair that was poorly attended, and only ever to get updates from Allura and Coran; but, after a week of them having practically nothing to report, even eating together had become a challenge.

“I wanted to check on you. You’re barely coming to meals, you don’t say anything during training—”

Pidge scoffed. “I mean, none of us have been particularly chatty of late.”

“Is that any excuse? You’re hiding from us.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re not making yourselves great company recently. I’m doing fine on my own.” She turned back to her work table.

“What have you even been doing down here,” Hunk asked, stepping further into the cluttered room. Pidge had filled the lab’s considerable space with a multitude of projects, from small plants growing under lights on one side of the room to complicated wiring formations on the other. The table Pidge was sitting at was stacked high with thick and dusty books.

“Research. Which I would like to continue,” she said, turning back to her computer.

“What are you researching? What— what are all these books?” Hunk came forward and picked one up off the stack, ducking out of the way as Pidge swatted at him. He leafed through it carefully so as not to dislodge any of Pidge’s many color coded tabs. “This is in Altean—” he looked back at the stack— “half of these are in Altean and the other half are languages I’ve never seen before. What is all of this for?” He looked up, meeting Pidge’s eye.

“Are you done?” She asked, eyes narrowed. Hunk sighed but nodded, replacing the book on the stack and crossing his arms over his chest. He and Pidge just looked at each other for a long moment before Pidge sighed and grabbed a book off of one stack. She tossed it at Hunk and turned to her computer, opening a slew of files.

“Over the past month, Lance has woken up twice with varying levels of lucidity—”

“I don’t know if we can call any of that lucid, Pidge.’

“Shut up and bear with me, Hunk.” He raised his hands placatingly and gestured for her to continue. “Maybe not lucid, but there was definitely a certain level of awareness on both occasions. The first time when he woke up, he was still under the effects of the the dark quintessence that we purified during the hanv’a malga—”

“Dark quintessence we _removed_ during the hanv’a malga,” Hunk corrected. Pidge’s brows furrowed.

“Not exactly, but that’s an issue for another time.”

“What do you mean not exactly?

“I’m still researching that, so I don’t know for sure, but early quintessence theory, or Altean magic—” She gestures to another stack of books, these all in Altean— “looks at quintessence like matter. Same laws of conservation, even similar movement patterns. If you pour out a glass of water, some drops cling to the bottom. Not enough to dilute whatever gets poured in there next, but there’s still trace amounts.”

“So you're saying that when we did the hanv’a malga, some of the dark quintessence remained?”

Pidge shrugged. “It’s just a theory. I don't know much about magic or druids, and Coran was definitely talking about the druidic energies inside Lance as the ones creating problems. Their quintessence could work totally differently from what I have information about. The druids are obviously a younger race than Alteans. They’re even younger than the castle. There’s nothing about them in the library and we can’t translate Druda at all. I’m flying blind  when it comes to them.”

“But why are you looking into them anyways? We’re done with druid magic—”

“I’m looking into everything, Hunk. While you and Shiro wanna sit around and wait for something to happen, I’m going to figure out what’s happening.”

“I’m not sitting around,” Hunk snapped. “Who do you think is cooking all the meals you don’t show up to? Who’s been doing lion maintenance? I know we think that the universe is gonna pause while we wait to get our shit together, but it won’t. Voltron is going to be needed sooner than we think, and we’ll have to be ready.”

“Ha! You want Voltron to be ready? When was the last time you talked to Keith?” Pidge threw an arm out towards the door. “I haven’t seen you in days and the first time I do you invade my lab and second guess my work—”

“I’m not second guessing it. I just don't understand why you’re doing it in the first place.”

“Well if you would let me get through my explanation—”

“Fine, go ahead.”

“ _Without_ interrupting.” She glared at him until he nodded and leaned back against a table, settling in to listen.

Pidge exhaled and pulled up security footage from the med bay. “I went and rewatched the med bay footage of Lance the times he woke up and I noticed a major difference. The first time Lance woke up, before he fell under the influence of whatever craziness the druid pumped into him, he was speaking English. He was scared and confused and, though he couldn’t really identify us, he understood and responded to what we were saying and where we told him he was.” She pulled up another video, this one from the week before. “The second time Lance woke up, he was still scared and confused, but didn’t indicate he could understand us. He also wasn’t speaking in English. I had the castle run translations and he spoke in at least four identifiable languages— the primary one being galra— and one that the castle didn’t know. I’m guessing this was Druda.”

“Why would he switch between languages?”

“That’s what I wanna know. I’ve got to pick Allura’s brain about what’s typical for prisoners who end up in Lance’s position, but I’m not confident that he had a typical imprisonment.” She grew quiet. “The people we saved from that high security prison… They’d expected to die. They knew what they were being sent to and expected death. Lance came back alive and it doesn’t look like they ever even wanted to kill him. And I should be happy about that, but I'm too scared that they did something even worse.” Pidge stopped, looking down at her hands where they rested on her keyboard. Hunk let her have a minute before prompting—

“And the languages? Why do you think there were multiple?”

Pidge looked up at him before she cleared her throat and soldiered on. “Knowing what we know about not only where, but when Lance was taken— straight to Zarkon at high command in the weeks before a grand council meeting— I think that he was some sort of… diplomatic plaything. He definitely encountered multiple races—” she pulled up a map “—because the three other languages are from completely different galaxies, one of which has a well documented history in the castle’s database— the others are less documented, but definitely known—”

“Pidge, that doesn’t make sense,” Hunk said, shaking his head. “Why wouldn’t Lance speak English around us? He speaks it, we speak it. You’d think that would be the best course of action, especially for someone running on fear and instinct.”

“But that’s just it!” Pidge pulled up the second video of Lance again and let it play silently as she spoke. “Lance _is_ running on fear and instinct, but his instincts don't tell him we speak English.” On screen, Lance was quaking, eyes flitting around the room. “Lance’s responses in this video don’t show recognition or understanding, so he’s using what he knows based on how the situation looks. And to him, we look like a bunch of aliens.”

 

* * *

 

Shiro startled as the kitchen doors opened behind him, whirling around and dropping into a defensive position (the effect of which was significantly diminished by the bowl of food good cradled in his robotic arm). It was late at night and he hadn't expected anybody else to be awake.

“Shiro?” Allura called, puzzlement in her tired voice.

Shiro straightened up and set his bowl on the counter. “Allura. How are things downstair— I mean— sorry, you probably came for a break from all… that—”

“Things downstairs are the same as usual, Shiro,” Allura said calmly, gliding into the room to sit across from him at the counter. Shiro looked at her, taking in the tired eyes and sagging shoulders that he could hardly help reflecting. It had been eight days since the hanv’a malga— the last real time that she and him had been alone together— and Shiro wondered if he looked as changed to her as she did to him. It almost seemed to him that she had aged since he’d seen her last.

“Princess, have you been sleeping at all?” Shiro asked delicately.

Allura gave him something near a smile and nodded. “Yes Shiro, I have been resting.”

“Rest and sleep are different, Princess,” he said, letting an almost paternal tone of disapproval slip into his voice. She stood up and rounded the counter, slipping past him and moving to the strange silver device that would let her make a cup of tea.

“Alteans don’t require nearly as much sleep as humans do, and I have been taking a sufficient number of breaks for an Alteans my age.” He turned around and watched her pull a mug out of a cabinet and set it in the machine. “It’s Coran who you should be asking about.” A measure of frustration slipped into her voice and Shiro raised an eyebrow.

“Coran? Has he not been sleeping either?”

“He’s running himself ragged, and won’t let me help him. Even when I can coax him into a chair for a dobash’s rest, he watches me and he watches Lance. He won’t let himself slip away for anything more than food or the restroom.”

“But you can more than handle yourself in the med bay. He knows that, he trained you— I mean, you trained Pidge and she’s already perfectly capable down there—”

“He knows that, and it’s not that he doesn't trust me to run tests or do general upkeep. I’m plenty useful there” She pulled her mug out and wrapped her hands around the warm vessel. She leaned against the counter beside Shiro, setting her elbows on the hard stone surface and holding her mug to her face. She sighed, letting the steam from the mug rise up against her cheeks and surround her in a warm and earthy aroma. She sighed again. “This is hard on him. Coran saw so much during the first part of the war— so much loss, of life, of limb, of mind— things like this unsettle him. Only in small ways, but they unsettle him nonetheless.”

Carefully, Shiro laid a hand between Allura’s shoulder blades. When she pressed into the touch, he rubbed gentle circles there, trying to give what comfort he could. Allura slowly moved into the touch, and Shiro wrapped an arm around her, tucking her into his side.

“He cares so dearly for you,” Allura said quietly. “After such a short amount of time, he looks at all of you as he looked at me when I was younger. He only wants to protect you from the world— from the war— and I don’t think he’s ever felt so helpless to do so.”

Shiro said nothing. He had nothing to say. He simply stood there, holding and supporting her until she finally, inevitably, slipped away. Returning to the med bay to keep vigil over Lance.

  


* * *

 

Keith woke with a start, blinking rapidly as harsh white lights bombarded his eyes. He squinted and looked blearily around him. He was in the med bay on the floor, and there was a thin sheet over his legs. He tried again to take in his surroundings, focusing on things one at a time and immediately discovered what had woken him: the alarm. He looked up and saw Allura and Coran hovering at the bedside. Underneath the covers, Lance was thrashing and kicking. Keith sucked in a gasp and immediately recoiled. He’d spent so much of the night surrounded by Lance’s scent that the differences now— the tang of fear and of stress hormones— was almost nauseating. But cutting underneath it, as startling as it was disturbing, was the strengthening smell of urine.

Keith’s eyes widened and he looked up, mind whirling as it tried to catch up with the scene in front of him. Allura and Coran were both huddled over the bed, Allura speaking frantically at Lance, who was just as unresponsive as ever.

A tortured cry cut through the air and Lance thrashed on the bed. Before he even knew he’d moved, Keith was halfway across the room, heading towards Lance’s bedside.

“Allura, Coran—“

“Keith, you need to leave,” Coran snapped, throwing out an arm to stop Keith from getting too close to where Lance lay on the bed. Keith pushed uselessly against the offending limb. Even with the additional strength from his transformation, he was hardly a match for an Altean, never mind now, when the only thing he could focus on was Lance’s drawn face— his brow tight, his mouth twisted around a whimper and his blue eyes— visible.

They were open for the first time in days. They were opened wide, staring sightlessly at the ceiling with pupils far too dilated for the already bright room.

“He’s awake,” Keith whispered, all the strength leaking out of his body.

“We can’t be sure,” Coran said, maneuvering Keith with one arm and pushing him away from the bed. He returned to Lance’s bedside, shining a light into each of his eyes to see if they reacted. “His eyes are open, but he’s no more responsive than any other time he’s had a panic in the night.”

“But they’re open. And this is the first time that’s happened, right?”

“Yes, but—“ Lance’s heart monitor started to chime, pulling Coran’s attention. He said something to Allura in Altean and she moved across the room to one of the many supply cabinets.

“What— What’s happening? Coran what do I do?” Keith asked moving back towards the bed.”

“Leave, Keith.” Coran all but growled. Allura crossed the room again, brushing a hand against Keith’s shoulder in an almost reassuring way, before stepping to Coran’s side. She handed him a syringe and helped him briefly disconnect Lance’s fluids from his IV to push the new solution into his system. Lance’s heart rate began to slow and the monitor stopped its frantic cry. All at once he stilled, going lax on the bed. His cries hushed to whimpers and then silence and his eyes slid gently closed.

Allura moved about Lance’s bed, setting him and his various aides and monitors back in order; and Coran turned to Keith.

“Coran, his eyes were open, that has to mean something”—

“Keith…”

“He’s getting closer. He’s trying to wake up.” Keith craned his neck, trying to look around Coran at the bed. “Lance wants to wake up. He’s ready—“

“Or,” Coran tugged Keith away from the bed and towards the med bay doors, "his body is trying to strengthen its response to whatever terrors he sees when he sleeps.” Coran gave Keith a pitying look and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “We can’t try and assume anything about Lance’s path to recovery. There’s nothing we can know for sure—"

Keith jerked away from the hand on his shoulder. “Stop saying that like it’s comforting.”

“I don’t mean it to be comforting, Keith, I mean it to be honest. You are all trying to riddle out a process that isn’t going to be linear. You all want Lance to get better all at once, but he won’t.” Behind them Lance whimpered quietly, as if to join Coran’s argument. “The mere thought of it is childish. Yes, Lance opened his eyes for the first time—“

“And that’s a change that could be good—"

“But he has also relieved himself in the midst of a night terror. Should we think of that change as positive as well?” Coran straightened up and looked down his nose at Keith, who bristled.

“I- I don’t know. None of us know. You won’t tell us anything useful—“

“Allura and I tell you what we can.”

“And you can hardly tell us anything! I think that gives me the right to try and think of something new as potentially good!” Keith all but yelled, trying to be quiet in the now still room. “I don’t care that you think it’s naive. You can’t treat us like children, Coran.”

“I can if you insist on behaving like one.” Coran took a step towards Keith as if to pull him to him but Keith stepped back and away. Coran’s arms fell to his side. “Keith, you have to understand: I love your hope. I love your eagerness and your faith. But I can’t in good conscience let you and the others be naive about this.”

“We’re not—“

“You are.” Another step. “You, Pidge, even Hunk. I have one hurt paladin laid up on the bed behind me. I don’t need three more paladins out of commission when his healing doesn’t go as they think it should. Now—“ Another step and Keith found himself pressed against the med bay doors, which slid open behind him. “I recommend you go rest,” Coran said as he looked up at the others, standing in the hall, where they always gathered after an alert from the med bay. “all of you. And until you are able to help one another, do not expect you will be any use to Allura, myself, or to Lance. We have had a difficult two months, but that’s no excuse for fraying apart.” The younger paladins looked abashed, all of them unable to meet each others’ eyes and feeling all the more guilty for it.

Coran sighed and stepped back into the med bay. Closing Keith in the hall with the others and returning to his work.

Shiro stepped forward and put a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Keith—”

“Not now Shiro,” Keith said quietly, shrugging the hand off. He turned to leave, shoving his hands in his pocket and trudging down the hall.

“Keith?” Pidge called. He ignored her, continuing listlessly down the hall.She turned to follow him.

“Pidge,” Hunk said. She stopped without looking at him. “Let him go. He probably wants to be alone.”

“Then I’ll let him tell me that,” she said, following him down the hall and out of sight.

Hunk and Shiro watched her disappear after Keith. Hunk’s brow furrowed briefly in confusion before the weight of Coran’s words struck him. This was the fraying apart— none of them choosing to rely on the team, but rather splitting into duos or working through things entirely on their own. Even earlier in the lab, he and Pidge were tense with each other in a way they hadn’t been since their first days at the Garrison.

Suddenly, the med bay doors opened, pulling Hunk from his thoughts. Allura stepped quietly out and looked briefly up at him and Shiro. Before averting her gaze and staring at the floor.

“Shiro, Coran would like your help inside,” she said softly.

“Yes, princess,” he responded. He slipped past her, brushing a hand gently against her side before disappearing into the med bay. The door closed behind him with a swish.

Allura looked up at Hunk, who seemed lost. “How are you faring recently?”

For a moment, he said nothing. His eyebrows drew close together and his fists clenched and unclenched at his side, but for a long minute he couldn’t find his voice. Allura stepped close and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Hunk, it’s okay not to be okay,” she soothed.

“But that’s not the problem,” He said, looking over at her. “I _am_ okay. I’m eating and sleeping. I cook three meals a day in the kitchens and eat them by myself. I do maintenance on the lions and train when I should. And around me, everyone else is reacting. They're working or helping or falling apart and I’m not… anything. My best friend in the universe has been unconscious for a week, and I can’t— I’m just going! And I can’t just stop, because then what’ll I do with myself? But going, it just feels wrong,” he sighed. “But I don’t feel anything else either.

“And what am I even going for? I’m no help to Lance, not like you and Shiro, and I’m not investigating and researching like Pidge. Even Keith has been throwing himself into training—which, sure, is typical— but he’ll be battle ready. And he’s been helping Pidge. I mean, he can’t sleep or eat and he barely even knew Lance before this. Now he’s taking this more seriously than I am—”

“Hunk,” Allura said, squeezing his shoulder firmly to get his attention. “You can’t weigh your reactions to this against anyone else’s. Everyone reacts to situations like this differently. Becoming steady in the face of adversity is not something to mourn. You are seeking what stability you can— all of you are. You find stability in routine. In plans and in rituals. Pidge finds stability in projects and in puzzles. Keith find his stability in… well, in nearness to Lance. And that’s all equal. You cannot try and force yourself to react to stress differently than you do, especially when it’s as long term a situation as this has been.”

“But I don’t feel steady, princess,” his voice wavered as he spoke. “I don’t feel anything. It’s like I’m blank, when I know I should be reacting. I— I don’t know what's wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Hunk. You're reacting as well as you can to a situation that’s far beyond our control.”

“But what if I’m no help to Lance… in the long run, once he’s awake. I won’t have learned or gained anything from this. There’s no progress being made, no knowledge gained. I’ll be exactly where I started and he’ll be somewhere else entirely.”

Allura sighed. “There’s a common misconception that adversity is about growth,” she said, looking Hunk in the eye before drawing him into her for a hug. “Your difficulties are not training exercises or classes. They’re your life. The only thing you need to do is make it through. That is more than enough.”

Slowly, Hunk’s arms came up around her in a timid imitation of her caring hold. “It definitely doesn’t _feel_ like enough,” he whispered, so quietly that, be it not for Allura’s sensitive Altean hearing, the words would have been lost in the forest of her hair.

She didn’t respond. She simply held him tighter and prayed to X’hal that this wouldn’t be the challenge that tore Team Voltron apart.

 

* * *

 

“Coran? You wanted to see me?” Shiro stopped short, just within the med bay, watching Coran rummage through the firstmost storage cabinet. He emerged with a stack of clean linens.

“Yes, Shiro,” Coran said shortly. “I’ll need your assistance again with bathing Lance.

“Alright,” Shiro said, trying and failing to keep the question out of his voice. Regardless, Coran answered him.

“Lance had an episode, tonight that... greatly upset him. His body responded rather viscerally: his heart rate spiked, he began to scream and to sweat profusely, his eyes opened—”

“Wait, he woke up?” Shiro said, turning to look, shocked, at Lance, who seemed as unresponsive as ever.

“No. He remained unresponsive, trapped in his visions. These also caused him to urinate. We must now remake his bed and also bathe him.”

Shiro’s brow furrowed. “What happened to the catheter? Did he dislodge it?”

“Catheter?”

“Yeah. Or whatever device you were using before to catch his… excretions.”

“We have been using nothing. Alteans and most advanced species go dormant during healing sleeps like these. The body slows all functions, sometimes dangerously so, based on what nutrients and resources provided.”

“Humans don’t do that. At least, not like that. Lance should have still been producing waste. Even if he’s dehydrated he’ll still produce urine. Less of it, more concentrated, but there will still be some.”

“This has been Lance’s first emission since he came out of the pod,” Coran said. His eyes clouded with concern and he stared at his workstation in distress. “Let’s get everything in here cleaned up, then I’ll have you talk me through more about human biology.”

*** Coran stripped the bed expediently, carefully pulling the soiled sheets and blankets off of Lance’s prone form before directing Shiro to hold him. Shiro picked him up bridal style, Lance’s damp thighs pressing against his galra arm and his head lolling against his shoulder, and held him while Coran pulled the fitted sheet and an absorbent pad, heavy with liquid, off of the bed. The pile of linens was shoved down a laundry chute to be cleaned. Coran set another pad on the center of the bed and Shiro lay Lance back onto it without prompting.

Neither of them spoke as they began to delicately remove Lance’s clothes. Coran reached for the base of his tunic, which was soaked, and Shiro helped maneuver Lance’s body so it could be drawn up and away. Coran set the shirt aside.

Shiro held Lance to his chest, pulling his arms over his shoulders and resting Lance’s head in the crook of his next. Like this it seemed like Lance was a sleeping child, or that he and Shiro were simply hugging. Shiro held him tightly as Coran moved behind them, peeling off Lance’s pants and undergarments in one go. They too went on the pile as Coran grabbed a basin of warm water and some clean rags. Similarly to the night following the hanv’a malga, they bathed Lance gently but quickly. There were no longer wounds to look out for— his cuts had all  healed to tight scars and the only bruises left were beneath his eyes, a testament to a body that slept but didn’t rest— but Lance was more responsive than he had been then. The sedative Coran had given him would keep him unconscious for at least the next hour, but it didn’t stop Lance from feeling that he was being manhandled or from shivering in the cold air. He flinched away from Coran’s hands when they moved below his waist, and when they cleaned over the scars on his back he nearly jerked out of Shiro’s hold.

As soon as Lance was clean, they redressed him and moved him to another bed in the med bay, wrapping him up in a blanket while they remade his bed and reset this monitors. ***

When they finished, Coran drew Shiro to the other side of the room. “Now, help me fill in the gaps. This is abnormal for human biology?”

“Not entirely. People on earth end up in comas after head trauma, drug overdoses, heart attacks—”

“Heart attacks?”

“Cardiac arrest,” Shiro explained. “But none of that applies to him. We’ve scanned his entire body, including his brain, and nothing seemed dangerously abnormal. We’re dealing with the malnutrition, and he’s been properly hydrated. You and Allura are monitoring practically everything, his heart, his blood, his breathing.”

“We haven’t been watching brain activity,” Coran said slowly.

“Do you have the means to? Could we monitor his brainwaves?”

“I’m sure we could craft something, but most of our monitoring devices work to scan and store memories.”

“Like with Sendak…”

“Yes, or how we created the room that stored Alfor’s memories. I fear that anything similar would reveal too much of Lance’s experiences.”

“There has to be a way to monitor him without… making things public.”

Coran stroked his chin. “The pods can track just brain activity, but it’s tied into all the other methods of scanning tissues. We’d have to detangle those systems entirely just to get to the function we’re looking for.  We shouldn’t put him in kryo, that’ll eliminate the chance of him waking.

“I could talk to Hunk and Pidge about finding a way to allow us to do that without having to move Lance into kryo. I think that would be best,” Shiro said. “We’ll bring them down here and they can get to work as soon as possible.”

Coran sagged into a chair and hung his head in his hands. “Oh, Shiro,” he sighed. “There’s so much we don’t know. What if I’ve ruined everything? I’ve been careless.”

“You weren’t careless, and nothing is ruined. You’re our best resource no this ship.You and Allura functioned based on what you knew, but this is a situation where none of us know anything. Lance isn't responding as he should be and that's nobody's fault except for the Galra’s.”

“So what do we do now?" Coran said. He sagged into a chair, hanging his head in his hands and his shoulders. “

“We put all hands on deck to try to figure out what we can.”

 

*

 

Within an hour, the entire team was hard at work in the med bay. Hunk, Coran, and Shiro were scanning the internal systems of a healing pods in order to find and hopefully imitate the mechanisms there that would be most useful for them. Coran, Hunk, and Shiro would remove and replace panels looking for mechanisms to copy while Coran searched through the machine’s coding. On the other side of the med bay, Allura and Pidge were running a new gamut of tests on Lance. Pidge served as Allura’s assistant, helping her move vials and sensors and monitors as they called out measurements and results for Keith to take down.

They worked like this for hours, slipping easily from one task to another. They worked through the early morning and well into the day. It took some time, and Coran left twice to gather snacks and water for the team, but, by mid afternoon, there were two failed prototypes of the device they’d been trying to craft and one, working, machine.

Keith lay on a bed in the med bay while Pidge finished her last round of tests on the new EEG device. They had ultimately abandoned the idea of building one from scratch and instead chose to utilize the existing mechanisms inside the headsets they used for mind-melds, repurposing the device to read brain activity and project relevant data instead of images. The weight of the mind meld band around his head was oddly nostalgic— it had been weeks since the last time the team had gathered and tried to sync together. The last time they’d successfully  melded had been before Allura had taken her role as Blue’s paladin. Every other attempt had felt like one combined panic attack, all of their worries swirling together into one vortex like structure. They had all stumbled away shaking, with headaches that took ages to dissipate.

Now, they all watched carefully as Keith lay on the bed, letting the others watch his stats flicker across the device’s own holoscreen, before syncing across the room to the med bay’s main computer. There, Hunk and Coran were watching the results come in and setting up a database for them to be stored. At Lance’s bed, Allura and Shiro were running sensory tests, gauging his reactions and writing down the findings.

“According to Shiro,” Allura stated, “Lance is responding to sensory inputs in such a way eliminates this from being one of these ‘comas.’ He still has reflex responses and reacts organically to touch.”

“Organically?”

“In a way that seems natural for his state of mind. He... he flinches away from hands on his arms and shoulders, and his pupils dilate normally, if not a bit faster than expected, so he has recovered from his earlier episode. However, this means that we no longer know what could be keeping him asleep for such a long period of time, or why it’s having additional effects on his body.”

Pidge and Hunk looked up from their tests. “We can still try and put him in the headset,” Pidge said, “but I’m not sure what more it can tell us if we’re already sure it’s not a coma.”

“More data could help us check on Lance’s mind after the hanv’a malga. Considering your species is entirely ‘non-quintessent,’ he’s been through quite a lot in the past month— nevermind what he was exposed to while with the druids— and we don’t know what that could mean.” Coran came and pulled the headset off of Keith before moving across the room.

Keith slowly sat up. “So what’s the plan right now?” Keith asked, pulling his boots back on and sliding off the bed.

“Well, I looked back through the healing pods’ database and compiled previous data about Lance’s brain function to have a steady comparison between his past and his current brain activity.”

“But if it’s not a coma, then what would will that tell us? What would we even do?” Hunk asked.

“That’s something we’ll have to find out.” Shiro said, stepping toward Coran. Together, they gently lifted Lance’s head off the pillow and settled the headset about his temples.

“Guys, are we sure we want to do this?” Pidge said, standing suddenly.

“Pidge, we can’t just keep waiting.” Hunk said, going to the computer.

“Guys, I feel like we should let him wait it out.”

“But who knows how long that’ll take and what’s happening to him in the meantime?”

“Hunk, I know we’re impatient, but there might not be anything we can, or should, do.”

“Pidge, what are you talking about? We should do whatever we can!”

“I feel like we’re flying blind.”

“We are, that’s why we’re getting more data.”

“But what are we doing with the data that we have—”

“Enough!” Allura said, stepping between them. “You all have been doing too much fighting. I know we’re all stressed, and that there’s a lot that we don’t know, but we can’t keep fighting about courses of action. We have to _take_ action—”

She was cut off by the monitor behind her shrieking to life. They all turned towards the bed. The headset was showing a graph of Lance’s brain activity, as planned, but the results were staggering. Even so deeply asleep, Lance seemed hyperactive, the lines on the EEG jumping sporadically.

“X’hal,” Allura breathed. In the back of her mind, the Blue Lion wailed, pushing her consciousness towards Lance who, despite the radical action of his brian, lay still as ever on the sickbed. The only indication of life the occasional twitch or grimace, and the flick of his eyes beneath his eyelids.

 

* * *

 

Tarnec loomed over him, yellow eyes unreadable. His blood pounded in his ears and unrecognizable voices swirled around him. New voices. _Strange_ voices. That meant pain. It always meant—

He didn’t understand why, and they never told him. The rules always changed. The orange one made of slime could choke you for looking at them, the black furry one could beat you for not. The rule changed culture to culture, and any broken rule was the punishment of their  choosing. Well, mostly their choosing.

Tarnec could stop them. Would stop them. When they beat him half-dead and wanted to keep going. When they reached for themselves or his tunic. When they touched him… wrong. Tarnec stepped in, growling, ears pinned back and fangs bared.

Tarnec made sense. He had rules. He saved him when he could but now there were voices and he couldn’t tell where he was—  he was warm and swaddled in soft materials. He had been handled recently, could still feel hands on his arms and hands, the press of Nurav’s cold fingers on his temples.

There was no getting the witch out of his system. Every time he tried to surface they pulled him down, their claws a constant vice around his thoughts,  simultaneously a trap and a wall.

He couldn’t connect his thoughts, neither could he move through or away from them. It was an everlasting cycle of the blows he’d been dealt, the blood he had shed, the words he’d said, if not screamed, as he was forced again and again to beg.

He shuddered, and felt every brush of his vertebrae against the sheets beneath him. God, this awareness practically hurt. He was drowning, surrounded by unending black water—  not water, it was a vacuum. This was familiar. It was the cold chill of space sinking into his lungs. The suffocation. The shivering. He was helpless against the onslaught, the neverending cold. He shivered, his teeth chattering together. He tried to scream, but there’s no way to do that without air, is there? He was choking—  he wasn’t, he knew this, but despite that—  his lungs burned. His throat was raw—  maybe he’d succeed in screaming.

He shook where he was. All he wanted was to run. He wasn’t even restrained, he could tell that much, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. The voices in the room got louder and he broke out in a cold sweat. Suddenly, Nurav was there, watching him, _sneering_ at him. “ _Give in, Rashtan. You’re_ mine.” Hot tears ran back, down the sides of his head and into his ears.

‘Open your eyes. _Open_ your _eyes_ .’ There’s a helplessness to pleading with your own body that he wished he’d never known. That he wished wasn’t quite so familiar. ‘Move. Move. _Move!’_  

His mind was a whirlwind, a vortex of Tarnec’s yellow eyes and Nurav’s voice. The cold vacuum of space around him and the angry hands of strangers. He couldn’t think past them, each memory, each sensation, they walled him in, cutting him off from the rest of his mind—  it was a wall of nettles, a stinging cut every time he reached out. He cried, breath shuddering out of him with desperation, as the voices, Nurav’s, the strangers’, swirled around him.

A hand burned against his shoulder and he jolted, flinching away from the contact—

And something in the vortex stilled, if only momentarily. The cold was swept away. Something opened and all was a hush, no Nurav, no Tarnec, nothing—

He hit the floor with a thud and felt a needle tear out of his arm. He panted, trying to catch his breath, and pushed himself up on shaking arms. His legs were tangled in a sheet that he was now realizing was wet. He shook his head, hoping to clear it, and noticed the weight about his temples. He shouted, scrambling to pull it off, away from his head, away from his mind—  he tossed the device to the ground and scuttled backwards until he couldn’t, kicking the blankets off of his legs and kicking the headset across the polished floors. When his back pressed against the wall, he looked up.

Five pairs of eyes were on him, watching silently, warily. One of their party knelt on the floor, a woman in their arms, gripping her head and shuddering.

He felt the moment that his hindbrain registered his situation, that his breathing kicked up and his heart pounded against his ribs as his chest seemed to collapse inward. He was surrounded, unsure of where he was or why, and the vortex in the back of his mind seized on that, throwing him headlong into his fight or flight instincts and, his body as weak as it felt, fight was not an option. Even flight felt out of reach.

So he waited. He braced himself against the wall and tried his hardest to breathe, waiting for one of them to make a move, to come for him, to shout, to—

A sigh. One word, both scared and relieved.

“Lance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave comments and kudos to let me know what you think!
> 
> Wanna follow my hot mess life? Visit me on [tumblr](https://profoundprincessface.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Besos!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Season 6 lovlies!
> 
> I'm back & ~surviving~ (some might even say thriving. they're liars, but they may say it) which means I'm back to writing! 
> 
> Notes about this chapter:  
> It's so slow and twice as long as it should be and i'm so sorry. A very talented writer told me less is more and I somehow managed to ignore her. This chapter rolled in at 12k. I managed to get it down to 11k. I'll call that progress.
> 
> There's a lot of med bay scenes in this chapter and while the usual warning for medical situations doesn't necessarily fit, i want to reiterate it anyways.
> 
> Some useful context for this chapter can be found in the latest Outtake [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14619390). Note the warnings there as well. this fic somehow keeps getting darker but this chapter (f i n a l l y) starts us that recovery arc I had planned.
> 
> Don't worry, there's still some angst tho.
> 
> Typical rules apply: If there are any trigger/content warnings you would like me to add, please just say so in a comment (and so sorry to anyone i haven't responded to yet. gonna go do that now) and i'll update the tags.
> 
> ONE LAST THING:
> 
> I've been trying to do this for a while and this is the first chapter that's enough about Lance for it to feel right, but the Best Bitch NitchGlitch™ (you've prolly seen her in the comments. she's a gem) made me a playlist forever ago that I wanna share with y'all! Check it out on 8Tracks [here](https://8tracks.com/niche-glitch/you-re-a-liability) and get all in your feels.
> 
> I hope everybody's having a big gay Pride month. I know I'm out here tryna live my best (read: bi-est) life.  
> Keep it real, homos. we fought for this.
> 
> Besos from Space-os,  
> ~Tay

No one moved, which, though likely the best course of action, was unsustainable. Lance was quickly starting to panic and, having dislodged most of his monitors when he fell, they had no way to know how much stress a panic attack would put on his body.

Acting on impulse, Shiro stood as slowly and deliberately as he could. The others’ eyes all flicked to him, the only moving thing in the room as he passed Allura’s quaking form to Coran, who hefted her into his arms with ease. He gently tried to usher everyone else out, pleading with his eyes that they go quietly and without question. Miraculously, or maybe just because the others saw what Shiro did, they left, Hunk falling into step beside Coran and Pidge tugging Keith with her to the exit.

Shiro turned towards Lance, whose eyes switched between watching the others trail out of the room and watching Shiro. When the med bay doors slid closed, Lance flinched but fixed his undivided attention on Shiro, hardly even blinking in an attempt to keep track of him.

Shiro turned to face Lance fully, raising both hands in what he hoped was a disarming gesture. When Lance didn’t react, he took a careful step forwards. This caused Lance to still entirely, even his breathing stopped. Shiro retreated.

“It’s okay, Lance. I'm not going to hurt you.” He sunk into a crouch and extended one hand towards Lance, who simply watched it warily. Neither of them moved. Or spoke. One minute ticked into five into ten. Lance was practically silent, even his breathing was shallow, light and slow, as if he were hiding. A red dot formed on the sleeve of Lance’s tunic where the needlehole from his IV sat, uncovered, and Shiro was sure that Lance had slid over broken glass during his scramble towards the wall, but Lance did nothing. He showed no sign of discomfort. He simply sat and shivered on the floor as his wet clothes grew cold under the med bay’s A/C.

“Hey buddy, we need to get you into something dry; maybe get you something to eat. Can we do that?” he kept his voice soft, gentle and low, as if he were talking to a scared animal. He tried to keep the urgency out of his voice, but at this point he was scared not only for Lance’s health but also for the mess surrounding him. “Lance? Can you understand me?” A twitch of the head, almost a nod, but too hesitant to be real compliance. Shiro gave Lance a smile. “Good, that's good. Let's get you somewhere clean and warm, okay?” Shiro reached out again, offering Lance his open palm.

Lance’s eyes flashed with distrust and he pulled his arms close to his body, wrapping them around himself. Shiro’s heart broke. Looking at Lance was tragic. Knowing the strong young man they had gone on that fateful mission with and seeing him reduced to this— shivering on the floor, scared to even breathe wrong. Their Lance had been warm and welcoming, unafraid, even when he should‘ve been. This Lance was something— _someone_ else entirely.

A buzz from across the room interrupted Shiro’s train of thought, but he made sure not to move. He wasn’t wearing his helmet. It was halfway across the room and he could practically hear the others clamoring on the other end of the comm.

They’d planned over and over again for Lance’s waking up and in all iterations of it, Allura had been the one present. Shiro and Coran had inferred from the footage that waking up to a strange man looming over him might not be the best thing for Lance’s mental health. Allura, being both a female diplomat and capable of shape shifting, was an obvious first choice. She was both strong enough to handle and maneuver Lance if needed, but gentle enough that she might be able to coax him to eat and get him safely to his bedroom.

Instead, Allura had collapsed into his arms as Lance lurched out of his bed.

When Lance’s episode started, they had all panicked. Hunk and Pidge ran to the monitors, trying to find the cause only to discover that it wasn’t anything they had done. Lance’s last dose of the sedative had worn off hours ago and, since then, they had been coasting on the assurance that, like the prior week, Lance would remain asleep. He likely would’ve had they not reacted to the shaking. He had shuddered in the bed, screaming as he convulsed. His hands clenched in the sheets, and he began to sweat. He thrashed halfway off the bed— there were no more restraints in place— and they all reacted.

Allura, reached Lance first and, when her hand connected with Lance’s shoulder, it was like all five lions had entered the room. The roar of the blue lion rang around them and each of their lions responded in kind. The mental connection that sustains Voltron opened, if only for a moment, drawing each of them in— surrounding them with heat and pressure— before spitting them back out.

Shiro only just managed to catch Allura as she collapsed.

And now, he faced off against Lance, silently waiting for him to take his hand.

 

* * *

 

 _She was running, prancing, between the high shelves of the private room. Mother did very little other than training or diplomatic meetings (she was a queen and a warrior after all) but this study_ — _the shelves sprawling outwards and turning the space from intimate reprieve to grand library_ — _was the queen’s favorite place on Altea; curated by her and her husband to keep Erisae in comfort even away from a battlefield._

 _Allura stopped, tucking herself beneath one of the heavy reading tables. She pressed her hands to her mouth, hoping to quiet her panting and giggles as her mother stomped through the library_ —

_“I smell a princess,” Erisae growled, deepening her voice like a giant kershnik, “And when I catch her, I shall tickle her for her secrets!”_

_The footsteps drew closer and she resisted the urge to giggle or to run for another hiding spot_ —

 

_He was in a pantry, held in place by his older sister, who pinched his arm to get him to stop giggling._

_“Lance, hush! Mari’s gonna hear you!” Therese scolded even though she herself was quaking with quiet laughter. Suddenly, the doorknob began to turn, squeaking like it always did, and they both gasped. Therese’s hand folded over his lips to keep him quiet. The door flew open and_ —

 

— _the queen swooped down, pulling her out of her hiding spot and throwing her once into the air. She caught her and spun them both in a circle._

_“I caught myself a princess!” she growled, fingers already digging into Allura’s side and making her shriek with laughter. She squirmed in her mother’s arms until she was finally able to slide down the queen’s body to the ground._

_She took off running, searching for another hiding spot. Somewhere up high. She could scale one of the shelves. She was good climber, even though mother tells her not to._

_She was halfway up a shelf in the reference section when the door to the study burst open._ _  
_ _She couldn’t see him, but she heard Coran start to speak_ —

_“Queen Erisae, Black Paladin Zarkon would like to speak with you. There have been concerning bursts of interference on the castle readar. He’s concerned there may be an attack!”_

_Allura made it to the top of her shelf and could just glance the top of her mother’s head when the castle alarms started to blare._

_“Allura!” the queen called immediately. “Allura, my sweet, come here!” her mother’s voice was high. Pitched upwards with worry as the distant sounds of guards mobilizing in the halls came through the open door. “Allura!”_

_And she wanted to climb down, she really did, but she was frozen with fear and her legs wouldn’t work._

_“Mother!” she called. She shouldn’t have climbed up here, it was foolish_ —

 _“Allura!” She tried again to climb down, not only were they under attack, but she’d get in trouble for climbing up in the first place. Her hands and feet moved. She slid on her belly to the edge of the shelf and swung her feet down, searching for a foothold_ — _got it. She shifted her weight, moving down and then_ —

 _She was falling, a scream tumbling from her throat and she slipped from the top of the shelf_ —

 

 _The pain in his back was unbearable. If Haskoh would stop for just a minute he could tell him that he doesn’t know about the Garanoid crystal, has never known_ —

_But when had that ever stopped the lashes?_

_The cat-o-nine came down again, scraping over his shoulders and down his side and he couldn’t help the scream, hated himself for screaming because once he started he could never stop_ — _and the whip landed again and again and he was screaming and screaming and he thought he might be begging by that point, but Haskoh didn’t care_ — _this was one of his vicious days_ — _so Lance did the only thing he could and_ —

 

Coran watched helplessly as Allura screamed in her sleep.

 

* * *

 

Keith sat in Red’s cockpit, running his hands over the monitor. Despite lying idle in her hangar, the lion seemed to thrum with energy, vibrating through the mental link she and Keith had.

“So you don’t like this either, huh Red.” Keith said, stroking a little more firmly.

“What was that Keith?” Pidge said through the comm.

“Nothing,” Keith said, readjusting his helmet. “Just talking to Red.”

“Okay. How’s she doing?”

Keith looked around the cockpit one last time. “She seems fine. A little high strung, but fine overall.”

“High strung?” Pidge asked.

“Yeah. I mean, it’s weird but she feels really energetic. Like, restless.”

“You sure you aren’t just projecting?” Despite the humor in her tone, Keith bristled.

“No, she’s— I can’t explain it but it’s real. What do the tests say?”

“They’re still running. Another two minutes.”

Keith sighed, sitting back in his chair. Hunk and Pidge had decided to investigate the energy surge that happened when Lance woke up and, with nothing better to do with himself, Keith decided to tag along. The strange thing was, nowhere in the castle seemed to have registered it. The control room showed static internal castle activity since Landing on Lomaaz, and, other than a few slight shifts in the shields to counter the weather, there was nothing abnormal externally either.

“Pidge, is it possible we made it all up?”

“We can’t have made it up if we all experienced it.” He heard the click of keys as she typed away on her laptop. “The test are winding down if you wanna make your way back out.”

“I’m just saying,” Keith said, as he started to walk towards the exit. “That we’ve dealt with a lot of crazy magic shit in the past few weeks and, considering that we have technology that literally connects our minds, some sort of group hallucination doesn’t seem impossible…” but as he got nearer to Pidge, he trailed off. She looked between her laptop and his lion, frowning at both. “What’s wrong?”

“Your lion’s readings are weird.”

“Weird how?” he asked. Her frown deepened.

“I don’t know. There’s a secondary energy along with her core output. It’s not something I’ve seen before. It’s like she’s producing a new type of energy but I can’t tell if it’s a bad thing.”

“You don’t think this was red’s fault?”

“No, I don’t think it’s something she created herself. But it isn’t something I saw in my lion’s readings? Or maybe I just didn’t notice…”  more typing and then a small gasp. “Wait, my lion has it too. We all have this, but it only shows up on certain readings.”

“That doesn’t make sense, it can’t just come and go.”

“Exactly. I wonder… Imma scan it again, see what—”

“Hey guys?” Hunk called through the comms.

“What’s going on  Hunk? Was everything okay with Yellow?”  
“What? Yeah, he’s fine. It’s Blue I think we should worry about. You two should get over here.”

 

* * *

 

Lance was dozing off, struggling to keep his eyes open and on Shiro.

“It’s okay if you go to sleep, Lance; but we need to get you cleaned up first.” Shiro said, holding what little eye contact Lance would let him make. Even while fighting to keep his eyes open, Lance managed to send him a suspicious look. “I’m not going to hurt you,” Shiro said for what felt like the hundredth time.

Lance glared yet again, but, for the first time, looked away before Shiro did.

“Lance?” Shiro said warily, scooting forward on his knees. “If I wanted to clean you up and get you to bed, would that be okay?” Lance stayed as he was, huddled against the wall, with his his eyes turned away, as if finally yielding to Shiro.

Moving slowly, Shiro got his feet under him, shifting into a crouch. He moved one foot at a time towards Lance, while still talking, rambling reassurances, so Lance would hear his approach. Lance didn’t move. Said nothing, did nothing, as Shiro settled directly in front of him, brushing shards of glass and metal utensils out of the way with his glove. He brushed his hand off on his armor and braced himself.

“Lance?” the other boy cracked an eye, looking tiredly at Shiro. “I’m going to touch you now, okay?” the eye narrowed. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Shiro said, reaching out slowly. If he could wrap a hand around Lance’s waist or shoulder, he could pull him forward and into his arms.

They both watched as Shiro’s hand inched closer and closer to Lance. Even so, as Shiro made contact, Lance flinched, listing to the side and throwing a hand down to catch himself— only to cry out as a piece of glass stabbed into his palm.

“Shit, let me see—” Shiro said, moving on instinct to take hold of Lance’s wrist, inspecting his injured hand.

Lance watched in silent confusion as Shiro gently unfolded Lances fingers around the shard in the center of his hand, brows drawn with concern opposed to anger.

Shiro reached for the sheet where it was tangled around Lance’s leg, finding a corner untouched by Lance’s… accident, and holding it is his hand.

“This is going to hurt, but only for a moment okay? I’ve gotta get the glass out, then I can stitch you up.” Shiro said. Lance closed his eyes tight, bracing himself, and Shiro took that as confirmation. “One, two, three.”

Lance barely even winced as Shiro pulled the shard out of his hand, tossing the piece under the bed to be dealt with later and pressed the clean piece of linen to Lance’s cut. Lance curled his hand around it without being told, putting pressure on the wound and Shiro smiled.

“There you go.” Shiro got up quickly, going to one of the supply carts and grabbing a gauze pad. He came back and pried Lance’s fingers open, pulling the corner of the sheet away and folding the gauze pad over the wound instead.

“Ok, buddy. Let’s get you fixed up.” Shiro said, pulling Lance into his arms with one fluid motion. Shiro disentangled the sheet from around Lance’s legs and let it fall to the floor. He wrapped Lance’s legs around his waist, only just barely noticing the wince as he did so. “Lance? You okay?” But he said nothing, simply turning his face away from Shiro’s as he rested his head on Shiro’s shoulder. Shiro sighed, securing Lance in his arms and standing. He carried Lance to a bed on the other side of the room and set him atop the covers, only to have Lance whimper as he was set down.

“Lance? Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Shiro tried and nearly failed to keep the stress out of his voice. Lance was fading fast and they hadn’t accomplished any of the things they needed to. Lance was still in his sweat and urine soaked clothes, Shiro had to close the wound in his hand and chances of Shiro getting Lance to eat were dwindling by the second as the other boy slipped closer and closer to sleep.

“I can’t help unless I know what’s going on, and I won’t know what’s going on if you don’t tell me… Is it your hand? Your hand hurts?” he gently grabbed Lance’s hand and pulled the gauze away. The cut was still bleeding sluggishly.  “I’m going to fix this up, okay?”

He went to the supply carts, grabbing antiseptic, numbing cream and the topical glue. He hoped the glue wound be enough. He didn’t think either him or Lance would make it through stitches right now. He returned to Lance on the bed.

“Ok buddy, let’s get that hand taken care of,” Shiro said with a smile. He set the supplies down on Lance’s right and took off his uniform gloves, tearing open a packet of numbing cream and pulling out more gauze pads. He explains everything he does in a quiet gentle voice, both to remind himself of the process and to keep Lance aware of what’s going on. He can’t tell if Lance is listening, or even aware of where he is, but Shiro continues his narration anyways, ignoring how much he feels like a pediatrician opposed to a friend.

He squeezed a glob of the numbing cream onto a piece of gauze and started dabbing it around the wound. He reached down for the small vial of antiseptic, finding it had rolled down to lay against Lance’s thigh. He pulled it out, finding the vial and his fingers dotted with red.

“What?” He leaned to the side, looking down at Lance’s right thigh where no fewer than four red blotches were staining the thin pajama pants. “Oh, Lance,” Shiro sighed.

  


* * *

 

_She looked herself over in the mirror, turning to look at the back of the dress. It plunged low, practically to her Sacral Mark, and she blushed at the thought. Then again, she was nearly a woman. Her own coming of age ball was only a half a pheeb away, at which point she could choose to show her markings at will to whomever she pleased. Well, almost. The princess could hardly waste her time sharing her body when there was so much unrest and so much to do, but the thought was nice._

_Well partly._

_She turned again, looking herself over with a frown. It seemed like so much skin. Despite their cultural laxity to the sharing of one’s self, Alteans were still perceived as prudish amongst other advanced cultures. She knew this, but she was also meeting a number of dignitaries tonight. Surely it wouldn’t be too much if she wore one of her capes…_

_She shook herself. She was a princess, not some demuring nymph. She looked in the mirror again, smiling and letting herself appreciate the fact that she really did look lovely. She wasn’t as developed as some girls her age, but her breasts were coming in nicely and she could already tell she’d have her grandmothers hips. Instead, she went to her bed, kneeling on one side and reaching under for her knife box._

_What she hated about the dress hadn’t been how she looked in it, but how she knew others would look at her. Already, the sons of coalition nobles were turning into bullies with wandering eyes and hands._

_She pulled her favorite dagger_ — _short with a silvery blue blade and a smooth handle of Garucest wood_ — _from its spot in the box as well as her garter sheath. It was unlikely that someone would make trouble at so important an event, but drink and dancing has turned noblemen wild in the past. She wouldn’t be_ —

 

 _Defenseless. God that was the worst of it. He had nothing to defend himself with, not even his hands_ — _still bound, per request of whichever admiral this was, huge and covered in dark fur. They were dressed all in leathers and pelts like trophies._

_He rolled onto his stomach, trying to crawl away as if there was anywhere in the room to go. The admiral only laughed like the calving of glaciers, a deep, booming thing and just as cold, watching as Lance slid across the floor._

_“You wish to stop now, Blue Paladin? Do you want to beg for mercy?” He growled. “Come, purr for me, kitten and maybe we can play a game more fun. It’s the least you can offer after such disgusting behaviour during the meeting. Spitting like a lamec. I should make you lick my boots clean.” As he spoke, Lance made it to the other side of the room, and used the wall to get himself first upright then almost to his feet._

_The admiral muttered something in his native tongue, an unfairly beautiful, lilting thing. “My, what fire, Blue Paladin. It’s no wonder the druids grow frustrated with you.” He reached for the thick leather belt about his waist, undoing it, then cracking it like a whip. “But I do not have the druids’ patience, paladin. Come here.”_

_Lance’s body lurched as if on instinct, and he only just stopped himself from throwing his body down at the hulking being’s feet. Their red eyes narrowed and, before Lance could flinch, they swung the belt towards him. It hit his injured leg and wrapped around his calf. The admiral gave a tug that sent Lance to the ground, and then another that reeled him in. They unwrapped the belt and took it in hand, kneeling over Lance. They pulled Lance up by the front of his shirt, bringing them face to face. This close, Lance could feel the heat of their breath as it slid between their fangs._

_“Come now paladin, beg for me. I’ve heard it’s truly a delicious sight.” they purred. They fit the belt behind Lance’s neck, “No?” They let go of Lance’s shirt, dropping him into the cradle of the belt. They slid the end back through the buckle and slowly, menacingly, began to close the loop around Lance’s neck._

_Lance felt the slide of leather against his skin as the admiral came closer and closer to choking him. He grit his teeth and shut his eyes, only to receive a harsh slap._

_“You will look at me while I punish you!” The admiral yelled, baring his teeth. And at that moment, something in Lance snapped._

_“Mercy, god,_ mercy! _I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Mercy!”_

_The admiral chuckled, then tutted. “Now paladin, the all-speak is such an ugly language, don’t you agree?” They tugged on the belt and the paladin let out a frightened cry. “Give it to me pretty, now. Let’s see what you’ve learned.”_

_Lance slipped into Galra, the language awkward on his tongue but for a few phrases, mastered in moments like these._

_“Xour grastha, xa kίleh. Xour tansha. Xour gra-aah!*” He yelped as the belt tightened again. Lance couldn’t help the sob it pulled out of him. He reached up with bound hands and clawed at the belt as if he could pull it away. The admiral smacked him again._

_“None of that. Let’s teach you something prettier than Galra, pet.” He laid a big hand over Lance’s throat. “Repeat after me: phruuta vin gelle, Nimgǎve.**”_

_Lance tried, but he couldn’t push the sounds out from between his quivering lips. And all the while the belt pulled tighter and tighter until he was struggling, failing, to draw breath. The admiral chuckled, leaning over Lance with a smirk._

_“What a pity.”_

_The admiral raised a fist and knocked_ —

 

— _on her door before entering. Velan entered, puttering into the room in her typical, cheery way. She made a beeline straight for the dresser,_

 _“Now your mother is on her way up to check you over, princess. You will be departing soon.” Velan said, grabbing two different shawls out of the drawers and turning to face Allura where she sat on the bed. “Now, which cover would you_ — _dear X’hal, my girl. What are you doing?!”_

_Allura didn’t even look up from where she was tightening her garter._

_“I’m securing my knife. You never know when you’ll need it.” She said, pushing her underskirts to the side yet again as she tried to see the clasps on her the leather straps._

_“You’re going to a royal function, there will be more guards than you could ask for. Surely you don't want to take a dagger. It’ll be perfectly safe. Only other royals are allowed to carry in weapons.”_

_“And there'll be plenty of those, won't there?”_

_“Well_ — _”_

_“Besides, it's not their weapons I'm worried about. It's their hands.”_

_“Oh princess, what would your father say to hear you talk so crass?” Allura fought the urge to roll her eyes. Velan bustled over and knelt in front of Allura. “Now princess, why don’t you take that off. You look so pretty and grown up tonight, there’s no reason to_ — _”_

 _“That’s exactly the reason to_ — _”_

_“The reason to what,” the queen asked from where she stood in the door, her deep green shawl wrapped gracefully around her neck. She strode to the bedside, waving Velan away and crouching to look at the commotion in Allura’s skirts._

_Allura ducked her head, not wanting to see the scrutiny in her mother’s eyes, and preparing herself to argue for her dagger._

_Queen Erisae brushed Allura’s fingers away from the clasps, only to replace them with her own. She loosened the garter a bit before resealing the clasp._

_“If you wear it that tight you’ll lose bloodflow while dancing.” The queen stood, turning to Velan. “I think the pink shawl would suit this best.” She plucked it off Velan’s arms and came to wrap it gently about Allura’s shoulders, covering her exposed collarbones._

_“Queen Erisae, forgive me but, surely the princess won’t need_ — _”_

_“She might not need it, but, if she does, we’ll be glad she has it. Despite her youth, Allura is a trained fighter. She won’t misuse her weapons or her strength. That is not a promise we can make of others.” Erisae helped Allura off the bed, tugging her skirts back into place. Velan came over and quickly beat out a few wrinkles with her hand._

_The queen looked Allura over one last time. “So grown up my dear. Turning into a Nega flower_ — _so very beautiful with a bite to match.” Allura couldn’t help her smile at the compliment. “Shall we?”_

 _And with that, the queen readjusted her shawl and made her way out_ —

 

— _of the house and towards the car, which he had washed that morning._

_“No more photos, I’m gonna be late!”_

_“Let me get some of you by the car_ — _oh Tía Laura will love these, her little Lancelot all grown up and headed to the prom!”_

 _Lance tried to pry his thoughts away, back to darkness, out of his memories_ — _and then came the pain as Nurav forced him back. They were opening him up, delving deeper. They had plundered his time at the Garrison and now headed back_ —

 _He was in high school. It was May. He was all dressed up for prom. He was taking Hana Fields, a girl in his advanced History class, and needed to get a move on if he was going to pick her up and meet at Hunk’s house for group photos, but his mom kept wanting to take pictures of him by the car_ —

 _“You_ — _” he coughed, throat raw from screaming and dehydration. “You don’t need that. Leave it alone.” Nurav hissed their cool chuckle._

_“Oh Rashtan, your silly little memories seem so filled with ignorant joy. Surely this can’t hurt you. Don’t you want to watch?”_

_Lance tried to shake his head, even as Therese and Mari ran forward to get into a photo_ —

 _He tried to tug his mind away from that. Empty your mind. Clear your head_ —

_The pain was blinding as Nurav tightened their grip on his thoughts, his memories._

_“This is a mercy paladin. I could erase them, you know. Without a thought. You should watch one last time so you will know what_ I _can_ take _from you.”_

 _They played those two minutes as if in slow motion, taunting Lance with how simply they could eliminate his family even as the twins ran forward to join the photos, as Therese waved Lance and his mother towards the center of the frame, as his dad pulled them all back up to the door for a group photo_ —

_“Such cloying sentiment. It’s no wonder you cry and whimper like a beaten concubine.” Nurav readjusted their hands, pressing fingers all around Lance’s head, one landing in the center of his forehead. “Fear not. I can cure you of that.”_

_“Stop it, please. You know I can’t give you anything. Leave them alone,” he begged._

_“Oh, pet,” Nurav simpered cruelly. “This isn’t about what I can take from you. That is done. This is about what I can make you, and your attachments have no place in my project.”_

_And all at once that warm May evening began to cool. His siblings faded away and his parents shrunk to insignificance. He could feel the memory there, not gone per se, but inaccessible and moving farther and farther away._

_“Please, no,” he sobbed. “I need them, they’re mine, they’re mine they’re_ —

 

_“Mine, and some day, if she chooses, yours.” Erisae said, taking Allura’s hand in her own and pressing it against one of the blue lion’s paws. The metal was warm to the touch, nearly vibrating against Allura’s palm._

_“Mother, do you mean it?” she whispered, quivering at the implications, at the thought that she, like her mother before her, could be a paladin of Voltron. A warrior and hero destined for adventure, for greatness. She looked over her shoulder at her mother, who was gazing up towards the lion’s face._

_“If the fates allow, and you grow into the woman I know you can be, then yes. The Blue Lion should be yours.” Erisae pulled her hand from Allura’s and laid it on her shoulder instead. “I’m very proud of you for tonight. You showed poise beyond your years. All those lessons are paying off, my sweet.”_

_“Thank you, Mother.” Allura murmured._

_“And even though I heard whispers of your knife throughout the night, you never drew, which shows restraint.” Allura blushed. The prince of Bramul had slid the tips of his fingers into the back of her dress, so she had leaned close and whispered “I’m carrying a dagger” into his ear. His hand had retracted nearly all the way into his body and he was suddenly eager for a drink. She supposed he must have told._

_Her mother only laughed, pressing a kiss into her hair._

_“Don’t stay down here to long,” she said, stroking a hand over the blue lion’s paw as she exited._

_Allura leaned against the huge blue paw, letting the metal’s warmth seep into her. She threw off her shawl, letting her bare shoulders press into the warmth and feeling infinitely joyful._

_‘My lion,’ she thought. She giggled, relaxing against the massive paw and feeling what she swore could have been a purr rumble through the lion and into her_ —

 

Allura’s eyes snapped open and she exhaled like she’d been holding her breath. She recognized the ceiling of her bedroom and the canopy around her bed. Her body ached and she was sticky with sweat. She furrowed her brow. Her throat was raw, and she was thirsty. She looked around the room, searching for Coran or the mice, and found Coran, standing in the corner, talking into the comm on her helmet. She tried to strain her ears to hear him but her blood was still pounding in her brain.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her heart was still pounding. She tried again to calm herself, closing her eyes and breathing deeply, but as she cleared her mind her dreams seemed to rush back, flashes of her childhood and of what she can only assume was Lance’s time in captivity. She shuddered. The sensations had been so clear; the pain, the fear, the anger—

But the anger hadn’t come from her, and it hadn’t come from him—

She remembered the med bay. Lance going into convulsions and the blue lion’s roar in the back of her head. That same feeling that had overwhelmed her days ago in the med bay had rushed through her tenfold. She’d jumped forward, reaching for Lance’s shoulder and then—

And then the dreams.

“Cor- Coran” she rasped. He turned around, his face pale and drawn, but took off the helmet and came to her. She waved a hand towards the water on the nightstand and he quickly poured her a glass before helping her sit up and take small sips.

“Princess, how are you feeling?” he said as he pulled the glass away.

“Coran, what’s wrong? Who were you talking to on the comms?”

“I was checking on the others,” he said plainly, lifting the water back to her face, but she batted the cup away with a hand. “Do you want something else—”

“Coran, what are you hiding?”

“Princess, you were in this bed screaming for nearly two varga. Forgive me if you are my main concern.”

“What’s wrong with the others?” She said, hands clenching and unclenching in the sheets. Coran shushed her gently, brushing a hand over her brow.

“Hush, my dear. You’re unwell. Nothing is wrong with the others. Shiro is in the med bay with Lance and the other three are checking on the lions—”

“That’s what’s wrong,” she gasped, eyes going wide. She pushed herself upright, kicking off the covers and lurching towards the edge of the bed.

Coran caught her around her waist and pressed a hand to her shoulder, holding her in place. “Princess, what’s wrong?”

“Coran let me go, I- I can’t- I can’t feel her!” She jerked in his grasp, but Coran held firm.

“Allura, I don’t understand; who can’t you feel?”

“My lion, she’s gone. She left me, she’s— Coran I have to—” she growled out a curse in Altean.

“Allura, please!” She pushed against his chest and kicked at his legs, forcing him away. She stood, leaping off the bed and running towards the door.

  


* * *

 

“Run it one more time,” Keith said, putting his helmet back on to try and hail Coran again .He fell off the comms a few minutes ago, and Pidge had questions for him.

“Keith, repeating the test isn’t going to tell us anything new.” Hunk said, even as he pulled his own scanner forwards.

“He’s right, Keith,” Pidge said. “Until I can find out from Allura or Coran what’s going on, I don’t want to keep looking at empty results.”

“Well Coran’s not picking up, and we don’t have any other plans, Pidge.” Keith snapped.

“You think I don’t know that?” Pidge snapped back.

“Guys, cool it.” Hunk said firmly. Pidge huffed, sitting back down at her laptop. Keith crossed his arms and began to pace, switching from hailing Coran back to the open comm. He’d paced nearly a full circle around Blue’s bay when Shiro buzzed into the comm’s.

“Guys, I need to know how Allura is.” he said quickly. In a second, Keith, Hunk and Pidge were all talking. “One at a time!” Shiro hissed. The three fell silent, looking around at each other before Hunk finally spoke up.

“Last we heard from Coran, she was still asleep, but it didn’t look like she was doing too well. He hasn’t been on comms in a bit though. We don’t know how they’re doing.”

“Shit.” Shiro said. “Okay. Pidge. I need you to come down to the med bay.” Again, all three of them started talking, Keith and Hunk with cries of concern and Pidge with confusion.

“Guys, shut up!” Pidge yelled. “Shiro, what’s wrong? Why me?”

“Lance... needs more help than I can currently give right now.” he said carefully “Just trust me and get down here.”

Pidge floundered for words briefly before simply nodding. “Okay, I’m on my—”

She stopped as the hangar doors slid open and Allura stumbled through them, pulling along Coran who was almost desperately trying to get her to stop. As they made it into the room, she grew still and silent as she looked up at the blue lion; sitting upright in her particle barrier with purple light glowing out from her eyes.

A heart wrenching wail tore out of Allura’s and she collapsed on the ground. She wailed in Altean while beating her hands against the floor.

The others rushed forwards to help her up, Hunk and Pidge each lifting from under her shoulders. In her current state, she was pliant, limp in their arms. Her head hung forwards and she cried and rambled. They moved her to the nook where they had set up the computers and scanners. They all sunk awkwardly to the floor and Pidge leaned Allura against Hunk’s chest. Pidge handed over a water pouch, only to have it pushed away.

“Hunk take care of her. I’ve got to get to Shiro and Lance,” she said, standing and heading back to the door, only to notice Keith talking to Coran in hushed tones. The older Altean hadn’t moved since Alluras’ collapse. In fact, he too seemed stricken, not by the lion, but by Allura; and when Pidge looked closely, she could see tears sliding down his face. Keith looked over at her as she passed and, as they locked eyes, she knew that whatever was wrong would only be another hurdle in their way.

She pulled her eyes away, putting on her helmet and striding out the door.

 

* * *

Shiro counted the seconds as he waited for Pidge. Across the room Lance lay shivering on one of the beds, coming down from his panic at having Shiro try to work on his leg. Considering the tapes he and Coran had seen, he should have known better than to try that alone, but what other choice had he had?

Shiro was pulled from his thoughts by the doors sliding open and Pidge barreling through.

“Shiro!” she said, stopping just short of running into him. “I came as soon as I could, what’s wrong?”

“I need you to set up a healing pod for me and help me prep Lance to go inside.” If Pidge was upset by the instructions, she didn’t let it show on her face. Instead, she removed her helmet, running a hand through her sweaty hair before looking him in the eye.

“Was he injured again when he fell?”

“I don’t know if it was the fall so much as him moving around after,” Shiro said. “The glass on two of the standing monitors broke when they toppled over, and some of the shards are embedded in his thigh. I don’t want to subject him to stitches and walking on it when he could spend half an hour in the pod and be done with it.”

“But what if the pod tries to keep him again?”

“We’ll override it.”

They walked to the nearest pod and Pidge started to plug in instructions. Shiro retrieved a pod suit and, when the pod was primed, he led her towards Lance on the bed. He was laying on his side, the thigh with the glass in it up towards the air and that pants leg cut open to the waist. There was a bandage wrapped haphazardly around the highest cut, but otherwise they were untouched, shards of glass still visible and trails of blood rolling down his thighs. She walked up the side of the bed, counting the pieces of glass before glancing up the bed to Lance’s face. She found that Lance was awake. His breathing was shallow and quick like it often got during his nightmares, but his eyes were wide open. They were distant and glassy, but he was definitely awake are trying to keep track of his situation. He was sniffling as if he’d been crying and, when she looked closer, Pidge saw not only his red eyes, but the mess around his mouth and the corresponding pool of bile on the floor.

She looked again at Lance’s face and she saw him look at her. He avoided eye contact, but studied the planes of her face and looked her up and down once before his brow furrowed as if confused. She smiled at him gently.

“Hey there buddy,” she whispered. She couldn’t tell if he understood her. Regardless, his eyes went wide and his mouth moved as if he would respond before he shut his eyes and mouth tight, exhaling shakily. Pidge moved quietly away, going back to Shiro, who was waiting by the cabinets.

“We need to get the rest of that glass out and that bandage off before we can suit him up,” Pidge said, grabbing gloves and more antiseptic. Shiro nodded, passing over the tweezers and metal pan he’d been using before. “I can take the glass out if you can keep him calm, then we’ll just—”

“You should be the one calming him.” Shiro said quickly. “I can get the rest of the glass out, I just need you to distract him.”

“Oh. okay,” Pidge said with a shrug, pulling on her gloves and passing Shiro his. “If you’re doing that, I know Allura never got to check him over when everything happened, so I’ll take his vitals.” Shiro nodded and his shoulders relaxed.

“That’s perfect, Pidge. Just don’t let him look back at me. It might... freak him out.”

“Is that why you called me down here?”

Shiro said nothing, pulling on his gloves and turning towards the bed.

Pidge grabbed a med kit and went back to the bed. She stopped a foot or so from Lance and, though Lance didn’t open his eyes, Shiro and Pidge knew he could tell she was there. Shiro watched from a distance as Pidge leaned down close to Lance and whispered to him. He barely even twitched (though that may not have been a good thing) as Pidge showed him the tools she would be using and leaned towards him with the stethoscope. He watched, entranced as she listened to his heart and, while he was distracted, Pidge waved Shiro over, checking his pulse behind his jaw to keep him from turning his head.

From there it all went quickly. Shiro worked out of Lance’s line of sight to get the rest of the glass out and Pidge checked him over, murmuring to him and stroking his hair whenever he  seemed uneasy or started to flinch away from Shiro at his leg. They were even able to strip Lance without issue, Shiro cutting him out of his shirt and pants so Pidge could simply pull the fabric away.Even the healing suit went easily. It was the walk to the pod that was an issue.

After the first few steps, it became apparent that Pidge wouldn’t be able to get Lance there alone. He was too tired and his limp too prominent for Pidge, short as she was, to help him. She sent Shiro a pointed look and, warily, he came up to Lance’s other side, fitting an arm around his waist before pulling him up in a bridal carry, tucking him against his chest. Lance cried out once as he was lifted, but was quickly quieted by a murmur from Pidge. Even though Lance was stiff in his arms, Shiro, for a moment,felt confident that Lance was actually making progress, small as it was.

Then they reached the pod itself. Lance immediately panicked, pushing against Shiro’s chest and kicking his legs as they tried to put him in.

“Lance, please!” Pidge yelled, trying to talk over the screaming. “We just need to heal your cuts, you’ll be out in half an hour—” she stopped abruptly, looking at the place on his leg where they both knew he was still bleeding. “Shiro, you might just have to force him in. If you can get him in, I can do the wait strap and we can just—”

“I’m not gonna overpower him Pidge.” Shiro hissed, dodging another hand headed for his face.

“Well are you gonna strip him down and give him stitches?”

Shiro froze and one of Lance’s hands, weak as they were, collided with the side of his face. Shiro’s brow furrowed with reluctance, but he strode forwards, using his superior strength to manhandle Lance into the pod. Pidge slid in, beside him, strapping Lance in before quickly activating the pod.

The room fell silent as the glass closed over Lance, finally stopping the stream of pleas.

Shiro and Pidge stood in tense silence before Shiro sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face and turned back to the bed Lance had been on and the mess beside it. “We should go ahead and get this place cleaned up. He’ll be out soon. We need to make sure the area’s safe.”

They moved robotically around the room, clearing away the glass and stripping the soiled beds to get everything in order for when Lance came out.

And when he did, he collapsed directly into Pidge’s arms, sobbing.

 

* * *

 

As Shiro stepped into Allura’s bedroom, all heads turned towards him. Keith leapt out of his seat and Hunk stopped where he had been pacing. Coran spared him a glance before returning his attention to Allura, who lay silent, blank faced on the bed.  
“He’s asleep,” Shiro said simply. Nobody spoke as he came and joined them in the middle of the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed and taking Allura’s hand.

“Princess, are you okay?” She nodded simply, but said nothing, her expression dour. Shiro looked around the room, hoping someone could fill in the blanks.

“After the weirdness in the med bay,” Hunk started, “Pidge and I went to go check on the lions. They all seemed fine after the energy surge but, well… The blue lion has her shields up and this light we can’t identify coming from her eyes. Allura came down and… um. She came to try and talk to her,” he said slowly, “but she was totally locked out. Blue isn’t responding to any of us.” Shiro squeezed Allura’s hand but didn’t receive anything in return.

“How was Lance when you left him?” Keith asked. “Is he still in the med bay or—”

“He’s in his room. He… we had a hard time in the med bay. He injured himself when he fell out of bed and knocked over half the monitors, but it got better when Pidge was there to help. He wasn’t as scared of her.”

“Scared?” Keith asked warily.

“Yeah,” Shiro said sadly. “He was trying pretty hard to avoid me. He— he watched me like he thought I would hurt him, and- and I guess we can’t blame him for that but—” He felt Allura squeeze his hand tightly in hers and fell silent. He scrubbed a hand down his face with a weary sigh. “It doesn’t make it any easier,” he finished on a whisper.

“Is Pidge with him now?” Hunk asked.

“No. Once I took Lance to bed she went to her room to lie down. I don’t know if we’ll see her the rest of the night… Actually, if one of you could take her some dinner before you head to bed— I know we’ve all been up a while and have earned some rest.”

As Keith thought about it, he realized Shiro was right. He’d woken up in the middle of the night to Lance in the midst of that nightmare and the following day had passed like weeks.

“Shiro’s right,” Coran said wearily. “Today has had more than its share of waking vargas.” He stood, smoothing the wrinkles from his clothes with a hand and turning to the others. “We should all eat and get some rest.” He gestured towards the door, herding Keith and Hunk with a hand. Shiro moved to stand as well, only to be stopped by a look from Coran. “Shiro, could you sit with the princess while I fetch her a plate?” he said tightly.

Shiro sat back down immediately, secretly relieved. “Of course, Coran.”

“Thank you, Shiro.”

The room emptied and Shiro turned to face Allura.

“Princess, are you alright? Really, I mean?” he said, squeezing her hand. She turned her head away from him, looking towards the room’s sprawling windows. She was quiet for a long minute and Shiro waited patiently until she spoke.

“You know, this is the same bedroom I had as a girl,” she said, her voice was hoarse. “The Castle of Lions was built for the members of Voltron so they could travel between their home planets without separating the five lions, and each of their families had suites on board. I spent most of my time on Altea with my father, learning how to be a leader; but, since my mother was the Blue Paladin and Altea was ruled largely by the grand council, there were occasions when my father, or myself, or sometimes both of us would join her for diplomatic missions.” She looked around the rich apartment. “This was where I stayed most nights. Though oftentimes, especially when Father stayed on Altea, I’d go to my mother’s room and crawl in bed with her. She’d tell me stories of missions and battles. It was at her side that I learned to love Voltron. To love the Blue Lion.”

Something in Shiro’s chest went tight and he scooted up on the bed, crowding close to Allura and running a hand through the hairs at her temple. She leaned into the touch with a smile, even as tears ran down her cheeks.  
“I first heard the Blue Lion when I was fourteen. I was two earth months from coming of age— I would be able to pick my royal guard, I would choose my civil focus, I would officially start my duties as a princess. I was two months away from the most important day of my life. And yet I suddenly felt it had already happened. I let my work— my civil focus, my studies, everything— revolve around Voltron. Around the lion I was so certain was going to be mine.

“And then everything fell apart. The next six years took everything from us. Only one month before he destroyed Altea, Zarkon killed my mother in an attack on the castle. It looked like Voltron was torn apart but myself and the other paladins knew, we _knew_ I could fly her. That she would let me— but then my father said no. He’d just lost his wife, he wasn’t going to lose his daughter too. Besides, I didn’t know any of the attack patterns or maneuvers. I’d seen training but it’s so different being out there. So we retreated and went back to Altea. It was a few short weeks later that Zarkon attacked our home and my father scattered the lions across the universe.

“Even when I came out of the pod, I could hear her. Not often— she wasn’t mine, after all— but it was still a connection I had. And now… Now she’s closed off entirely.” Her voice cracked and Shiro briefly saw how devastating it must be to lose the voice of a friend you’d known for years, and without warning. He tugged her upright into a hug and she clung to him.

“And I’d been hearing her so _clearly_ of late,” Allura whispered, hiding the words against his neck.

By the time Coran returned, she’d had cried herself back to sleep, to his and Shiro’s shared relief.

 

* * *

 

Despite the long day they’d had before, Team Voltron had gathered for breakfast the earliest they ever had on a day without a mission. They had all wandered in on their own, bleary eyed from restless sleep, but awake enough to be surprised at others being there. Soon enough, Hunk and Coran simply began preparing food for the others seated around the table, all before Lomaaz’s first sun even rose. Everyone waited restlessly for the two people missing: Lance, who had been carried to bed the evening before, and Allura, who had yet to wake up.  By the time she wandered in, the rest of the team was alert and waiting anxiously for her. When she arrived in the kitchen, she was still obviously tired, but she looked around the room at the waiting team, and, after a brief review of their existing plan, left with a nod. Despite yesterday’s hardship, Allura still seemed the best choice for who should wake Lance.

They had agreed as a team that, if Lance didn’t want to come to breakfast or looked like he was forcing himself, they would leave him be and someone would take him a plate later in the morning. But, almost miraculously, The intercom buzzed and Allura’s voice came through.

“Lance and I will be there momentarily,” she said simply. Closing the comm and leaving them the next few minutes to quietly split their time between celebration and panic. On the one hand, the fact that Lance even wanted to come out of his room seemed as improbable as it did wonderful, and it was likely a good sign in terms of Lance’s recovery. On the other hand, the strain of the last 36 hours weighed heavy on the team, and they needed now more than ever to be steady. Lance needed a support system.

They shuffled around the kitchen, taking their seats around the table but leaving the chair to Allura’s right, usually Shiro’s spot, vacant so Lance could sit beside her. Pidge would be on her other side and Coran next to the empty chair. Hunk served the food and Coran slid a plate in front of Lance’s empty spot. They had only just settled in when the door slid open and Allura came through, followed closely by Lance, trailing her like a duckling.

Though he didn’t hesitate to follow Allura into the room, Lance’s eyes narrowed warily as they slid over the table’s occupants. Nevertheless, he stood tall, the only noticeable sign of nervousness the way his fingers flexed at his sides. Allura ushered him carefully towards his chair, pulling it out before taking her own seat. Lance stood silently at the corner of the table for a moment, looking first at Allura and then at the others around the table, before sliding effortlessly to the floor, kneeling at Allura’s side.

 

* * *

 

He was glad he had chosen to follow her. When she came to get him he’d hidden in the corner, but she hadn’t gotten angry or yelled. She simply waited, speaking quietly and ultimately turning to leave, only stopping when he looked out from his corner at the end of the bed. She was kind, kinder than others who had handled him, and even let him walk without a leash. There were no restraints, no collars— it almost seemed too good to be true. He didn’t trust that this wasn’t a trick. A test or a hallucination set up by Nurav. Either way, he would behave as he knew he was expected to. He didn’t speak on the walk there, simply nodding when spoken to and following quietly (two paces behind and to the left, per protocol).

There had been more of them in the room he was taken to, sitting around a dining table and all watching their arrival carefully. She was obviously someone important— proved again when she sat at the head of the table— and he was glad he had followed her. It seemed only right that the thing he do next is show deference. He kneeled on the ground beside her chair.

If he could continue to please her, and by doing so please her compatriots, he could be safe here.

And now he couldn’t figure out what he’d done wrong. None of them were moving. His new mistress was stiff with displeasure— perhaps if he went lower? He bowed his head and curled towards the floor, only to be stopped by a hand on his sternum.

His mistress had slid out of her own chair onto the floor beside him and had reached under him to stop him from kneeling— Oh lord, he’d upset her. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. _Stupid._ All of them were watching now. God, her hand was on his chest. She could punish him right now, in front of everyone and then they’d know he’s stupid. That he makes mistakes and needs to be corrected— Should he speak? Should he apologize? But what if that just made it worse. God he’d only been here a moment and already he was paralyzed with fear.

He could feel himself shaking, vibrating against the steadiness of her palms, one against his sternum, still keeping him from hunching to the floor, and one rubbing gently up and down his spine. She was shushing him. Why was she— dear god, he’d started making noise without realizing. So stupid. Stupid. Stupid. He needed control over himself. He couldn’t lose time like this. Time was focus and focus was safety—

He took a deep breath. He needed to get control.

“Very good, Lance,” she said. “Can you give me another deep breath? Very good.” He relaxed slightly. He was being praised. He hadn’t ruined everything. She pressed lightly against his chest with her fingertips, helping him to sit back up. “There we go. Nice and easy.” She sat back as if to stand. “Now let’s see about getting you off this cold floor, huh?” She took his hands in hers, and gently tugged, helping him to his feet before guiding him into the other empty chair at the table.

Now he knew it was a trick. They had to be making fun of him, or trying to fool him into punishable behavior— But his mistress had put him here. Unless she wasn’t who he was supposed to listen to? He flicked his eyes around the table. There was the man from the med bay, the one with the metal hand and scar. Maybe he was in charge? He looked to be the strongest. Or it could be the one with the mustache, who was the oldest?

His head hurt. He didn’t know what to do, so he did nothing and hoped for it all to end. At some point a few of them began to eat slowly, demonstratively, as if giving him permission, but he wasn’t going to make any other mistakes. Eventually, his mistress leaned over and nudged his plate closer to him.

“Lance? Are you hungry? Would you like to eat, or would something else be better right now?” he watched as she spoke, trying to make sense of this. She sat him at the table; she offered him their food and her voice was so painfully gentle. Surely he didn’t have long before this fell apart.

But if he could keep things here, safe and pain free, for just a while longer…

He warily picked up the spoon, taking a scoop of the green food goo. He swallowed without tasting— in fact, he felt a bit nauseous— but, when he saw the relieved looks of those around the table, he knew he’d made the right choice. And so he took another bite…

And the table relaxed. This was the test; the same as any other test: how well could he please his masters. And if this made them happy, he would eat. Even after the third bite when his stomach felt too full, he took another, and another. Slowly, so slowly. Some of the others at the table had finished by the time he was halfway through. His bowl had been smaller too, like they knew he couldn’t do it. He choked down another bite, gagging slightly on the swallow and felt all eyes in the room snap to him.

Tears pricked his eyes. Surely _now_ he had ruined it. This was the failure. Some tests you passed and some you failed, and this one he’d failed.

His mistress leaned over, setting her hand overtop his, stopping his spoon. “Lance,” she said, voice still soft but tinged with horror. “You don’t have to eat what you can’t handle. I never meant— we just want to take care of you. To keep you healthy.” He could feel everyone around the table watching them. Was this a trick a too? Were they wondering how he’d respond next? He felt his eyes prick with tears and tried again to raise his spoon to his mouth, but she stopped him with her hand, gently prying the spoon out of his fingers. There were whispers around the table now. He was wrong but he didn’t know why.

With shaking hands, his mistress gently pulled the spoon from his fingers. God, he’d messed up now. He felt his throat convulse with the desire to sob— why was he crying so much? If he was weak here, they'd get rid of him. Or change him to be stronger. He didn't want that. He wanted to live. He wanted to be good.

He rubbed the tears out of his eyes and took a deep breath. He would take any punishments graciously and then he would improve. He could learn the rules and follow them. He sat up straight and looked around the table. They all froze, growing quiet. When had they started talking? He had to pay attention.

The general with the metal hand was standing halfway out of his chair, one hand reaching towards his mistress, whose face was tight with stress.

“Allura, you're still tired from yesterday,” He said calmly. “Perhaps Pidge and myself should see Lance back to his room, and Coran could take you up to yours to rest?”

His mistress’s eyes were wary but she nodded. As the one with the mustache went and helped her from her chair, he saw she was shaking. Had he done that? Had he upset her that much?

He stood immediately, knocking his chair back with a clatter, and made to follow only to have the little one, the other one from yesterday, stop him with a hand on his shoulder. She smiled at him.

“Allura’s gonna go back to her room, Lance. You can come with me and Shiro.” She ran her hand down his shoulder to his hand, gently guiding him to the door. The general came up behind him, gesturing with a hand.

They looked at him with such gentleness. And yet, his stomach swooped like he was free-falling. He was already being handed off, but he didn’t even know what he did wrong. He looked back at the other two at the table, the nervous one in yellow and the young galra— definitely a half breed. He barely even looked like one. It was no wonder he had no authority— both of whom looked at him like he was missing something. He knew they were right. Nothing here made sense. There had to be something missing.

Instead, he concentrated on walking with the two he’d been given to. His mistress had passed him off for misbehaving. He would take his punishment bravely and try harder next time.

That was what he told himself.

They made it halfway to his room— not a cell. It was furnished, cozy, confusing— before he couldn’t be quiet anymore. He started begging, in the all-speak even, as he’d heard them use it, and the other two had whirled on him in concern. They crowded around him, trying to silence him? Punish him? The bigger one laid a hand against his back as if to quell his shaking—

The stress in his mind and the mound of food in his stomach overwhelmed him. He vomited  (and briefly felt better, less heavy and foolish) before everything froze.

The little one had caught some of his sick in her hands. The rest dripped down her arms and her clothes. She and him were both splattered with undigested goo.

His brain was just static. God, he’d really done it now. He could hear himself apologizing, begging— he couldn’t keep track of languages. He couldn’t keep track of his limbs. Someone was carrying him. God he’d done it now. Who knew how they would hurt him for this. He wanted to die. Why hadn’t he died? He was so sure Nurav would kill him and instead he was here, in this place where nothing made sense and people smiled without leering and treated him so gently that he desperately wanted to think it was real. But it had to be a trick, or a hallucination. The place was familiar like so many of the memories Nurav had plundered. It had to be an amalgam of those, put together to torment him.

He would wake up any second now on Nurav’s table and they’d tell him he was in Atavan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think! i L I V E for y'all's comments and i see every one of them even if it takes me forever to respond. They're my pick me up when the writing gets tough.
> 
> Extra love to nitchglitch, thefineprint, and maychorian all of whom left such beautiful gems on the last chapter that i revisited multiple times while working on this behemoth. Love you all.
> 
> Translations from this chapter:  
> *Your mercy, my lord. Your peace. Your mer--  
> ** Don't kill me, Master.
> 
> I'm not sorry. 
> 
> Visit me on [tumblr](https://profoundprincessface.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> see you next time  
> kisses,  
> Tay


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